Continuity
by Eris R. Lebeau
Summary: In the mirror, his appearance is as he remembers it, though he knows the resemblance is only external. Beneath the bioloid skin, he is no longer a man of flesh and blood, but a creature of circuits and steel.
1. Beyond Expectations

**Chapter 1: Beyond Expectations**

**Author's Note: **This chapter has been updated with a fairly extensive addition.

* * *

He flexes a hand slowly, testing the fine motor skills of this new body. The fingers respond with a precision he finds remarkable. He smiles, imagining his improved accuracy with a pulse rifle. In the mirror, his appearance is as he remembers it, though he knows the resemblance is only external. Beneath the bioloid skin, he is no longer a man of flesh and blood, but a creature of circuits and steel .

He turns to face the Kalish technician, a pretty young woman who stares at his naked form with acute scientific curiosity. "The cosmetic team appears to have done an excellent job. Is anything missing?"

"Missing?" He checks the mirror again and sees his own puzzled smile.

"Scars, birthmarks, anything that, if absent, would lead to suspicion. My orders are to make sure the likeness is identical, and given that the original subject was obliterated, I have only your word."

"It is..." he searches for a word to describe this miraculous gift. "It is beyond expectations."

"Yes, I imagine it is. When we found the data spools in the command carrier wreckage, the last thing _we_ expected was a living consciousness. I believe I speak for the whole scientific team when I say we are grateful to you for giving us this opportunity." She walks over to a shelf and retrieves a set of clothing, which she hands to him.

"And to the Scarrans for providing the equipment, of course." He cannot keep the bitterness out of his voice as he pulls on the shirt and trousers.

"Working for the Scarrans is a necessity of survival. Ours and yours." She raises an eyebrow. "You will fulfill your end of the agreement." Her tone makes it clear that she is making a statement, not asking a question.

He meets her eyes and shrugs. He knows this second life will end if he betrays the Scarrans. Locked deep within his new brain are fail safes and contingency code that will initiate a self-destruct sequence if he disobeys orders. That alone is not sufficient leverage to secure his cooperation. He needs a reason to care about his own survival. "That depends. Have you honored my request?"

Her face lights up with pride and a touch of something deeper. Perhaps Kalish women do have some sense of maternal instinct, though it could be a trick of the light as it plays on those turquoise eyes. "Oh, yes! The boy is magnificent! Jayza-- she is the lead of the cosmetic team-- she enjoyed the opportunity to employ some creativity. Usually bioloids are made to more exact specifications."

If he were still a man, his heart would be pounding in anticipation. The biomechanoid pump inside him does not respond to his surging emotions, which are no less real than they were before. He wonders if his real eyes would have teared and decides there will be many advantages to this new body. "The data transfer... his consciousness?" He can hardly articulate a question.

The technician shrugs. "Only you can judge that. Are you ready to meet him?"

He nods, unable to formulate words.

She taps her comm. "Jayza? Is he able to walk?"

_Yes. Once he stopped being stubborn, he learned quickly. Shall I bring him to you? _

"Yes, please." The technician smiles nervously, and reaches out to take his hand.

He squeezes her hand gently, aware of his increased strength, then pulls away, not wanting to be distracted by the contact. The microts drag by and he begins to pace. Finally, the door slides open with a faint pneumatic hiss and two figures enter. One is a tall Kalish woman that must be Jayza, and the other is an olive-skinned boy with glossy black hair and large, expressive eyes.

The boy moves forward with shambling, awkward steps, though his body is perfectly formed. He frowns in concentration, and when Jayza reaches to assist him, he pushes her away, determined to make his own way across the room. He looks up at the man and forces a lopsided smile. "This is more difficult than I guessed from watching you."

The man knows his real eyes _would_ be streaming, even as he returns the boy's smile. "You are doing well, Talyn." He takes a step toward the bioloid that houses what was once a Leviathan hybrid.

"I hope so, Father." Thin mechanical arms wrap around the man's waist, and he wonders if the strength of the boy's embrace will damage his internal components. He decides he doesn't care. Let the Kalish repair him and bill the Scarrans for their efforts.

"I need a final run of diagnostics on each of you." The younger technician wears a smile, but her eyes have misted over.

"I'll take Talyn with me," Jayza offers. "One of your junior techs can collect the data, but I want to be there."

Talyn stands and shambles toward her. When he reaches her side, he turns back to look at Bialar. "It's ok-- I trust her. It's Gemmi you have to watch out for." He jerks his head toward the younger woman.

Jayza beams at Talyn before telling her colleague, "Remember to ask about what we discussed."

Gemmi nods, and Jayza leads Talyn from the room.

Bialar watches the young Kalish woman as she prepares a table full of equipment, flipping switches, adjusting displays, and arranging various tools. She moves with Peacekeeper-like efficiency, every gesture imbued with confidence and purpose. Engrossed in her work, she hums a tune he has heard quite recently.

"It was _your_ voice I heard first, then?" he asks.

"Oh, was I..?" She turns to face him, her cheeks coloring slightly. "Sorry. It's a bad habit. Drives my techs half farbot."

He smiles, amused at how easily she becomes embarrassed. "It's quite alright. When I first heard that tune, I thought it was the voice of some hazmot luring me to the underworld. It sounds much less eerie when I have a face to go with the voice." In fact, her face would be lovely were it not for the odd coloration of her species.

"Sorry about that. I usually get all the sensors online at once, but with you, well, I didn't code any of your algorithms, so it's trial and error and lots of down time. I did insist that Jayza get your skin on before I connected your vision sensors. Here, come sit down." She gestures to an empty spot on the table.

"That was considerate." As he sits down, Bialar glances at his hands, not wanting to think about what lies beneath the skin, let alone see it. "I do not think I can adequately express my gratitude."

"Really?" Her face lights up. "It would have bothered you, seeing yourself with cables and tubes and wires--"

He holds up a hand. "It bothers me to hear about it."

She nods sharply, smirking with self-satisfaction. "Completely self-aware, aren't you?" She reaches behind his neck and he feels a moment of agonizing pain as she snaps something in place. "A true living consciousness. None of the other Kalish believed me, and the Scarran's only half-believe because they're hoping you can be a better spy than a standard bioloid. After seeing you with your son, I know you're as alive as I am. Talyn, though..." She shakes her head and spreads her hands.

"What is it? I was promised his successful animation if I agreed to the Scarran's request."

Gemmi sighs and begins systematically prodding him with what looks like a stylus, watching her instrument display as she does. Each jab sends a different sensation through him; after a few microts, tiny portions of his left arm have been burned, frozen, shocked, pressured, and stabbed.

Still continuing her painful explorations, she says, "It's what Jayza wanted me to ask you about. I tried the best I could with both you, but your son has some strange thinking. He told Jayza he's a Leviathan. And he had to be taught to walk, which is surprising, since your coding seems to include natural body movement. I'm not sure his data was entirely in tact, not to the extent that yours appears to be."

In between jabs, Bialar laughs, eliciting a confused frown from Gemmi. "Talyn was a Leviathan hybrid ship. It's his data spool you found. He was a new Peacekeeper technology, a ship that could be linked with a Sebaccean mind."

Gemmi's eyes widen with sudden understanding, and she drops her stylus. "So that's how your data was preserved! It's ingenious! It makes me a bit useless as a bioloid programmer, but still, it's so much better than the way I usually get my data. He was your project, then?"

"More than my 'project,' Gemmi."

"I didn't mean that in a disparaging way! You're _my_ project."

"Yes, and I feel like a 'project.' You prod me like a laboratory animal." He rubs his arm for emphasis.

"I'm verifying your sensors. All bioloids are programmed to feel sensations normal for their species. It helps keep reactions natural, although you can actively ignore unpleasant sensations if you choose to, which means you can function better than your Sebaccean counterpart."

"You might have told me I could ignore it!" He picks up the stylus and touches it to his fingertip. After a few tries, he finds he can indeed will himself to see the pain as a signal, no more unsettling than a color, or the sound of a spoken word.

She shrugs. "I needed to measure your responses."

He considers observing a few of _her_ responses and decides to put down the stylus before succumbing to the temptation.

She reaches behind his neck again, and this time he feels only a slight tug. "There. You're disconnected." Her hands slide down to his shoulders. "From now on, I'll simply ask you if everything is functional. No more prodding. It's not standard procedure, but then you're anything but a typical bioloid."

"Your consideration is appreciated." He pulls her hands down from his shoulders and finds himself reluctant to let go of them. The warmth and softness of her skin is a reminder of all the simple pleasures he thought he had sacrificed, all the things she has made possible for him to experience again.

Flushing a deep shade of red, she pulls her hands away from his and begins shutting down her equipment. "You're not Kalish, either," she mutters.

"No," he agrees, wondering what her point is. "I cannot even call myself Sebaccean, though in my mind, I always will be."

Facing him, but not meeting his eyes, she says, "If you were a normal bioloid, I'd be completely farbot for asking. Well, I wouldn't ask! I mean, I don't, I'm not... never mind. And if you were Kalish, it would be considered improper, since in a way, I hardly know you, though in another way, I do, because I've seen your code. Not that we have 'code', per se--"

"Are you asking me to recreate with you?" He blinks in astonishment and stares at her, attempting to decide if his gratitude toward her is enough to make up for her Kalishness.

"Ah, yes, well, I wouldn't have used exactly that term." She reaches out and takes one of his hands.

He chuckles, feeling a surge of fondness for her that has more to do with her awkward fumbling than the fact that she saved his life. Objectively, Gemmi is more attractive than most Sebaccean women, though the Peacekeeper in him says otherwise. He answers her question by sliding his free arm around her waist and bringing her close to him. She has given him a second chance to live, and he has no intention of letting old ways of thinking keep him from having what he wants.


	2. If You Understood Me

Irreversibly contaminated. For Bialar Crais, the site of Gemmi's coppery hair spread across the pillow still calls that phrase to mind. It has no meaning now. He is no longer a Peacekeeper, or even a Sebaccean. Gemmi and the other Kalish scientists created this body and transferred his consciousness to it. Worse, no matter how much Gemmi enjoys playing with her creation, it belongs to the Scarrans. It is the set of traps inside his mind, not the touch of Kalish flesh, that compromises him. Still, old prejudice lingers, a testament to the success of the data transfer.

Gemmi opens her eyes and smiles up at him. "You're brooding again."

"You seem pleased about that." He sits down on the edge of the bed.

"I was in charge of data verification. Whenever I see you behaving in such a Sebaccean manner, it confirms my success. Perhaps I should begin recording all of your activity to show my supervisors." There is a note of tension in her voice.

"They question the project?" Bialar keeps his tone casual, though in truth he is alarmed. If the project is terminated, he and Talyn will be as well.

"They have managed to access more of the data spools recovered from the command carrier. Not all of them were from Talyn. There are recordings of Bialar Crais that show him exhibiting behavior- how did they put it?- unlikely to fall within the parameters of function for Bioloid 354."

"I see." He sighs. "They wonder if Crichton will recognize me without the irrational vendetta and habitual bouts of rage? And yet they tell me any act of violence will trigger a self-destruct sequence that will affect not only my body but Talyn's as well. They doom their own project to failure either way."

"No one ever said Scarrans were rational. But for myself, I want to know-- did I succeed?"

Bialar's smile is one of genuine amusement. One of the gifts his new perspective has brought him is the ability to appreciate irony. "To answer that, remove the safeguards and count how many Scarrans I kill in my escape."

She swallows. Her eyes are wide with a mixture of curiosity and fear. "Only Scarrans?"

"Kalish are intelligent enough to stay out of my way." He runs a finger from the tip of her chin to her temple, and then taps her forehead gently. "Correct?"

She nods slowly as she studies his face. "I think you would shoot me without hesitation or remorse if you thought it would help you escape with Talyn."

"That is not the case." He squeezes her bare shoulder and bends to bring his face closer to hers. "I would regret the necessity of harming you. Even Peacekeepers have some fondness for their recreation partners."

"You would 'regret the necessity'?" She repeats his words in a high, mocking pitch, shaking her head in disbelief. "You truly are Bialar Crais."

"I never claimed otherwise," he reminds her.

"You're cold and calculating enough to be Kalish and hot-blooded enough to be Scarran." She sits up with a smile. "Your personality is so defective it could only arise naturally. And I," her grin broadens, and she wraps her arms around his neck, "am a genius!"

"Indisputably," he agrees.

"It's never been done before, you know. Full transfer of consciousness from a semi-intelligent being to a data spool to a bioloid." She slides onto his lap and leans back, her head titled slightly as she studies his face. "I saw the data chips of Crais. Jayza did a commendable job with your appearance. But the truly brilliant work was mine." She laces her fingers behind his neck and kisses him.

Taking advantage of his bioloid strength, he seizes her wrists and pulls her hands apart, then pushes her away as he stands. He does not like being someone else's creation. He was a Peacekeeper too long, and Peacekeepers do not waste time praising their makers. "I was my own man long before I was your work, Gemmi. Forget that and you have lost my friendship. I have no use for a smirking, red-headed goddess demanding tribute."

She winces and rubs her left wrist, then her right. "Where are you going?"

"Most likely? To pull Talyn out of whatever trouble he's gotten himself into."

"I could help you with him," she offers. "It's a matter of altering algorithms. I do it with bioloids all the time."

"You have made that offer before. My answer is the same: Let Talyn be himself."

"He frightens me, Bialar."

"Strange sentiments, coming from you. Did you not just crawl into my lap after I told you I would kill you?" He shakes his head in puzzlement. In the dark, she feels Sebaccean. Even now, she almost looks Sebaccean, but Gemmi's mind is undeniably alien.

She sighs in frustration. "You are primarily a rational creature. You act in your own best interests, and as long as I know what those interests are, I can avoid provoking you. Talyn..." she shakes her head. "Talyn is chaotic. If he were Kalish, he might be sent to a Nebari mind-cleansing station, or he might simply be... disposed of."

"His continued well being is a condition of my cooperation."

"I know, I know!" She holds up her hands, palms out. "It is just that he causes you so much grief, and I could fix it so easily! I don't understand why you won't let me help."

He chuckles. "If you understood me, I would not be Bialar Crais. And you could not take credit for my resurrection."


	3. Not So Different

Author's note 1: I am in no way abandoning "Fugitives". However, this plot bunny is, at the moment, more tenacious. Unsurprising, considering it is, after all, a bioloid bunny.

Author's note 2: Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment. The kind reviews I've received here and at Terra Firma continue to keep me motivated.

* * *

Bialar wanders the halls of the Scarran-run Kalish research vessel, but there is no sign of Talyn. He questions everyone he sees and receives only angry vituperations, not information. After an two fruitless arns, he decides he has no choice but to visit Jayza in her laboratory. He shudders. He dislikes thinking about his components being assembled. In his mind, he still has a mother and father. He remembers growing up slowly, each cycle finding him a bit taller and stronger. He remembers red Sebaccean blood flowing from his broken skin each time he was injured in training, sport, or some childish dispute. The blood of his ancestors never meant much to him until he woke to find it gone, replaced by sterile electrolytic fluids.

The door slides open as he approaches, and he is greeted with the site of boneless synthetic flesh, stretched out on a table. The three technicians bent over it are too deeply engrossed to notice him. He catches snatches of their conversation.

"Those'll hang a little low, don't you think?" one of the two male technician's speculates, gesturing with a sharp metal stylus.

A woman working with a set of tiny brushes shakes her head. "No, it's fine. You'll see when we get it on the frame."

"Who cares, anyway?" The other male snorts.

"He'll care if his mivoks are down to his knees!"

"Bioloids don't _care_, farbot! They don't have feelings," the woman explains in a patronizing tone.

"Jayza will. She wants everything perfect."

The woman snickers. "Gemmi cares _a lot _about her precious bioloid. So much they're going to have her _evaluated._"

Bialar has heard enough and interrupts, "Have any of you seen Talyn?"

The woman flushes until her plump cheeks are the same color as her braided hair. "You mean 355? No, I didn't see it. Heard about it, but I wasn't there."

"The twins are on the med deck," one of the men offers. "If you want to see what he did."

"I want to give my, er, Talyn a chance to explain himself first." Bialar silently curses the fail safes that prevent him from striking, or even threatening, these frustrating beings.

All three technicians regard him with cold Kalish curiosity. The male who complained about the malformed mivoks raises an eyebrow. "I don't know, Derga, I think maybe 354 _does _care."

The woman shrugs. "Well, _I _wasn't going to repeat those rumors. At least not with 354 looking right at me."

"What difference does it make if he is? He doesn't care," the other male teases.

She shrugs. "Oh, I know. It's just... unsettling!"

"Back to work, all of you!" Jayza walks in from a back room, looking as if she would like to hit someone. Hands on her hips, she glares at the three until they are once again engrossed in their work. When she turns to Bialar, her expression softens to one of sympathy. "Come, I'll take you to him." She places a hand on his arm and leads him into the hallway.

"What has he done this time?" Bialar asks.

Jayza faces forward and continues to stride briskly down the hallway until she reaches the doors to the lift. When the two of them have boarded, she presses the button for the upper level. "I will let him explain, as you said you wanted." After a moment, she adds, "Bialar, I have a son of my own, and two daughters."

The lift doors open and they step out into a tiny chamber. With the exception of the airlock itself, the walls are transparent, providing a view of the open sky and the surface of the station. In the distance, Bialar can just make out a silhouette outlined against the stars. "He's outside?"

Jayza nods. "He says he doesn't like the air, always pushing on him, making him feel trapped. That, and after the earlier incident, he wanted to get away."

"I thought we needed to breathe," Bialar mutters. "I suppose that is just another affectation, then? Something programmed to enhance the illusion?"

"No, it's part of your cooling system, but out there, you're not in danger of overheating. In fact, a bioloid can freeze, but Talyn will be be fine for several arns before he needs to replenish his energy stores."

"I see." Bialar takes half a step toward the airlock then turns back to face her. "You do not share the others' skepticism of Gemmi's work."

"That is correct." She faces Talyn's distant form and raises her hand until it touches the transparent material of the wall. "I've been evaluated as well. They say my 'unnatural attachment to 355' is to be expected, given that I designed his appearance. It is not surprising, they say, that I 'attribute emotions and motivations to him'. I simply need help 'readjusting my perceptions'." He can see her bitter smile in the ghostly reflection she casts on the wall. She chuckles. "I care for Talyn, but I'm not frelling him, so I don't engender the same concerns as Gemmi does."

Bialar ponders her words. He stares at Talyn through Jayza's reflection and wonders if this woman might become an ally. Trust always involves risk, but risk is often necessary. He knows any help she gives will compromise her, and feels a touch of guilt that he will ask anyway, once he decides he can trust her.

"Irreversibly contaminated." The phrase escapes his lips before he can stop it. Jayza turns and gives him a puzzled look, so he explains, "Peacekeepers believe that close physical proximity to members of an inferior species can leave a Sebaccean 'irreversibly contaminated'. Apparently Kalish have a similar concept. Had I known, I would have refused Gemmi's requests."

"No, she's not 'contaminated', just farbot for treating a thing like a person. You can't blame yourself."

"Of course not. Bioloids don't blame."

Jayza frowns at him for several microts then nods slowly and smiles. "Ah. A joke. The more I speak with you, the more convinced I become that she _isn't_ farbot." He reaches for the button that opens the airlock, but she grabs his arm. "Wait, I have one thing to tell you first. I altered Talyn's appearance to make him more... formidable-looking. I think the discrepancy between his apparent age and his strength may have exacerbated the problems. I wanted to do what I could for him."

Bialar nods. "He can be precocious on some occasions and willfully stupid on others. It is difficult to gage what his apparent age should be. Half the time, I imagine him the same age my brother was when we were conscripted."

"Ah. You may find his new appearance disconcerting. If you want me to change him back, I will. Just go to him now. He needs you." She pats him on the shoulder, then gets back in the lift.

He listens to the hum of the lift as it carries her away, taking a moment to convince himself that exiting the airlock is not a form of suicide. He does not look forward to the conversation he is about to have with Talyn. Still, the prospect of walking unprotected through vacuum is intriguing. His new existence is a mixed blessing at best, full of difficulties but also pleasures and discoveries. Upon reflection, it is not so different from his old one.


	4. Choose Your Own Chains

Talyn must feel the vibrations in the metal beneath his bare feet, but if he is aware of Bialar's approaching footsteps, he gives no sign. Arms raised slightly, he stands on the edge of void, only his heels touching the hull of the research station. Even his fingers are spread apart, as if he desires as much of his body as possible be exposed to vacuum. Such a desire would explain why his clothing lays in a careless heap.

Talyn's height is still the same-- average, for a Sebaccean man-- but Jayza has broadened his shoulders and made his limbs thick with muscle. When Bialar puts a hand on his shoulder, he slumps, allowing his hands to fall to his sides, pulled by the station's artificial gravity. In profile, he looks much like Tauvo did at eighteen cycles, and Bialar wonders if the resemblance is intentional.

The idea of Jayza rifling through his memories is simultaneously touching and offensive. What right does she have to create a tribute to Tauvo's memory, and to use Talyn to do so? The same right she had to resurrect Bialar Crais from a recovered data spool, he decides. No right at all, but that didn't stop her. For the Kalish, curiosity is a universal mandate.

"You don't like it." Talyn meets his eyes briefly before relaxing into his usual slouch.

"Don't like what?" Bialar wonders how he has managed to offend him without saying a word.

"Jayza's new design."

"I would prefer to see less of it." To emphasize that point, he picks up Talyn's shirt and trousers.

Talyn snatches the clothing with a scowl, tugs it on, and shudders. "I hate things touching me all the time, touching me on the outside. I didn't mean to hurt her, but she touched me when I wasn't expecting it."

"Start at the beginning, Talyn. I've heard bits and pieces of this story all day. I didn't ask for more because I wanted the truth from you."

"I was on my way to the data consoles to help look for Moya, and these girls started following me! They were giggling and whispering, and then one of them, Veena, she ambushed me!"

Bialar winces. "This is my fault. I should not assume you learned from observing. She was not trying to harm you. She was," he fumbles, embarrassed at having to explain. "Do you recall when Crichton and Officer Sun were aboard?"

He blinks in surprise. "But I'm supposed to look Sebaccean. She's Scarran."

"Scarran!" Bialar wrestles with an unpleasant emotion, one that would lead to a feeling of nausea were he still in his natural body. "I suppose young people can sometimes be... curious."

"I know she wasn't trying to hurt me. I didn't know she was thinking... But I know she wasn't attacking me." Talyn looks up at the stars as if he wishes he could starbust away.

"But you attacked her?"

"I... reacted. I hit her, and she fell. I wanted to see how badly she was hurt, but the others wouldn't let me. They formed a circle around her, and I couldn't see. I walked away, but by the time I got to the data consoles, Zinoch was waiting for me. And that _was _an ambush."

"The twins," Bialar mutters, remembering the technician's words. "Her brother, I take it?"

Talyn nods. "I defended myself. I was so scratched up, Jayza cried when she saw me. I suppose Zinoch's mother cried when she saw what I did to him."

"_Moya is your mother!" _Bialar snaps. "And that boy was only protecting his sister. I would have done the same."

"I told him it was a frelling accident! He should have listened."

"Gemmi wants to 'alter your algorithms'." Bialar hadn't planned to tell him that, but anger propels the truth from his mouth.

"Then I hope she uses a pulse pistol. It's like I told you-- some things are better off not being."

_Some things are better off not being. _That thought came from Talyn when he was a Leviathan/gunship hybrid, when they were still linked, two minds sharing a single awareness. Bialar could understand Talyn's despair then, but now, it makes so sense. Even if they were still linked, he doubts he would understand.

"Talyn, we've been given a gift! You don't have to be the destructive creature you were before. We'll soon be with Moya and Officer Sun--"

"Spying on them for the Scarran Empire!" Talyn shakes his head and chuckles bitterly.

"Spying on Crichton," Bialar corrects. "And only until I can get the fail safes removed. Once I find a way to remove those lines of code, I'll be as free as you are."

"I'm not free. I won't leave you. Frell! I spend half my day wondering if I'll be able to keep from disappointing you."

"And the other half?" Bialar prompts, half-joking.

"Being sorry I already have." Talyn flashes a lopsided grin that doesn't touch is eyes.

"Being 'free' simply means you choose your own chains, Talyn. I didn't choose the Scarrans, any more than I chose the Peacekeepers. If you stay with me, if you worry what I think, it is by your own choice."

He shakes his head. "No, no I didn't _choose_ to exist in the first place. I know what you did to my mother. _You_ made that choice for me."

"But you choose to continue your existence." Bialar wishes this conversation would end. Things were so much simpler with the transponder in place.

"I chose to go out with a bang. We were still linked then, so I know you felt like you ordered me. You didn't. It was my choice."

"So accept the consequences of your actions!" Bialar wonders if hitting Talyn would trigger the self-destruct and decides to ask Gemmi later. "You are no longer a gunship, and I am no longer Sebaccean. No matter how many females I recreate with, you are the only son I will ever have, and I will not allow you come to harm, even if that means telling Gemmi to reprogram you as a Delvian Pa'u!"

Talyn's mouth tightens in anger, and once again, he stares out at the stars. After perhaps a tenth of an arn, he says, "I hate not being linked to you. I can't tell if you meant that or not."

Bialar puts a hand on his shoulder before remembering his complaints about being touched. Reluctantly, he withdraws his hand as he replies, "I miss being linked with you as well."

Together, they start for the airlock. Halfway there, Talyn asks, "So, did you mean it?"

Bialar does not reply immediately. He hates the idea of altering Talyn, but fears losing him. How can he answer to Talyn when he is so uncertain himself? "I believe Jayza could find some blue dye."

"Hm." Talyn's grunt conveys nothing, save that he heard Bialar's words. "Can you sneak me in to see Veena? I want to tell her I'm sorry."

"Making friends with Scarrans?" Bialar cannot hide his surprise.

He shrugs. "Scarrans, Kalish, doesn't matter. My friends are the ones who call me 'Talyn'. The others call me '355'."

They've stopped in front of the air lock and Bialar takes a long look puzzling young man beside him. How can such a mixture of wisdom and foolishness exist in one mind? Since that day over two cycles ago, when he first linked with Talyn, he has had that thought too many times to count. He decides that when he next sees Gemmi, he will repeat his instructions to leave Talyn as he is. She transferred his consciousness from the data spools with complete accuracy, and for that, Bialar is grateful. Perhaps the smirking, red-headed goddess deserves some form of tribute after all.

* * *

Author's note:

I have taken plenty of physics, and I could lecture all day about "disturbance through a medium". In fact, I have. I used sound waves as an application in my math courses when I taught community college mathematics.

I also understand how artificial gravity works, and I realize it is not accurately portrayed in this story.

However, I am also of the opinion that letting a little thing like physics get in the way of a heartfelt conversation or a beautiful image is not in the spirit of Farscape. So if Talyn wants to stand naked on the edge of the space station against the backdrop of the stars, that's really his business. And if Crais takes the opportunity to have a heart-to-heart, who am I to interrupt with lectures on the difference between sound and EM radiation?

If you sense the bitterness of a rebuked author, then you are feeling the effects on my inner physics Nazi, which nagged me throughout the writing of this story. No one else has complained.


	5. A Cosmic Kick in the Eema

Talyn jogs down the hallway of the med center, pausing often to glance over his shoulder. The sleep cycle began two arns ago, and most of the nurses have gone back to their quarters. He thinks he can find Veena's room without anyone seeing. He's farbot for coming here anyway. It only takes one person to catch him, and then...

"_Gemmi wants to alter your algorithms." _Bialar's words keep repeating in his mind, no matter how hard he tries to forget them.

Frell that. He's lost enough of himself already. He won't let them take another piece, anymore than he'll let them stop him from seeing Veena.

He can't get the thoughts of her out of his head either. She must be hurt badly if she's still here, more than twelve arns after he hit her. He imagines her head cracked open, her face distorted and bleeding. Her friends wouldn't even let him get a glimpse of her after she fell, so all he has is the pictures his mind makes up.

"_You don't have to be the destructive creature you once were!" _Bialar again, but what did he mean? Was he trying to say he knew Talyn would make him proud, or encouraging him to let Gemmi butcher his mind? Frell that, either way. Talyn doubts he'll ever be anything but a dangerous rogue. He'll just have to find a place where that doesn't matter, a place where he won't have any friends to hurt.

He hears footsteps, and the high-pitched chatter of two Kalish nurses. Dren! He sees one of the rooms has its door ajar and darts inside, fervently hoping the patient inside it is asleep. Whoever it is, it snores louder than Bialar and Rygel put together. He leans against the door and waits until the sounds of footsteps and conversation have faded, then resumes his trek down the hallway, reading names.

One of the doors is half-open, lamplight spilling into the darkened hallway. He creeps up to read the name on the door and smiles. Zinoch. Veena's room must be nearby. When he tries to move forward, however, he finds he can't leave without taking a look.

"_That boy was only defending his sister. I would have done the same." _Bialar had a point.

Talyn steps inside, wishing he knew a god to hear his prayers. He promises he'll ask Veena about the Scarran gods, if she's able to talk. The room has a curtain for privacy, but its only half closed, and Talyn can see the figure sitting next to the bed. He grins and silently mouths her name. _Veena. _When he does learn the names of those gods, he'll thank them personally.

He stands completely still for a moment, examining her. The side of her face he can see is swollen, but not as badly as he had feared. In a few solar days, she'll look... Scarran again.

The Kalish say the Scarrans are ugly, and the Scarrans say the same of the Kalish, but Talyn doesn't think he'll ever understand either species. He loved to look at Kateri. He still dreams of the shape of her hull and wakes wishing he could sense her data streams again. He even loved the way she lit up when she starburst away from him for the last time. Kateri was beautiful. Scarrans, Kalish, and Sebaceans are just strange, with awkward limbs, and faces that provide poor substitutes for sensors and transmitters.

Without turning her head, Veena raises a hand, and Talyn feels a familiar rush of infrared radiation. She explained before that when they do this, they're reading someone. That might explain why it feels a bit like the sweep of Kateri's sensors. It feels like being understood. Maybe that's what other species feel when they go around touching each other, why Bialar always wants to put an arm around Talyn's shoulders or clap him on the back.

Too soon for Talyn's liking, Veena drops her hand, stands, and steps toward him until their faces are almost touching. Probably afraid to wake her brother, she greets Talyn in a barely audible whisper with the words, "I know."

He doesn't have to ask what she meant. He came here to tell her that he's sorry, that he didn't mean to hurt her. Now she knows. "Zinoch?"

"He'll recover." Her voice has a hard edge that cuts through Talyn's patience.

"He started it!" He hisses.

"But you didn't stop when you were finished. You kept at it."

"If you're wanting an answer, than read me again." He can't stand her accusations, wants to punch the other side of her face, knows he'll be sorry if he does.

She puts a hand on his chest, and he steps back, pressing himself against the wall. He doesn't want it touching him either, so he backs into the hallway, and she follows.

The infrared washes over him again, and her eyes widen. "You can't help it, can you? You're like... a machine. Oh, no! I didn't mean that, I'm sorry, it's just..."

"It's alright. I _am_ a machine." She does understand him, and that makes him smile.

She shakes her head. "No, you're not."

"You know I am! Half the kids call me 355! I'm a bioloid!"

"Heat rays don't work on bioloids. There isn't a real mind to read. So I don't care what you're made of, you're not a machine. You act like one sometimes, but you're not."

He nods his head slowly, pondering that. "What about Leviathans? Do heat rays work on them?"

She shrugs. "I'll try to find out."

"Thanks." He stares at the floor, dreading what he knows he has to say next. Even if she already read it, he has to say it. He just does. "Hey, I'm sorry about Zinoch. I guess he was just being like me."

She laughs loudly enough to make him look over his shoulder, hoping no one heard. "What-- stupid, farbot, blood-thirsty?"

That hurts. For once, Talyn is glad she isn't reading him. He doesn't want her to see the way her laugher stabs through him, twisting inside. He wanted her to know that he thinks Zinoch is a good brother, the kind he'd like to be if he had any siblings, probably the kind Bialar was.

She shakes her head. "Oh, stop sulking! You're right, you know, he is just like you-- loyal, brave, protective. If I can convince the two of you not to kill each other, it'll be like I have two-- Oh, frell!"

He hears the pounding footsteps as she curses, and turns to see who it is that alarmed her so much. One of the Kalish nurses drags a Scarran guard by the arm, using her free hand to point at Talyn. "There he is! It's 355!"

A second Scarran raises the muzzle of a weapon. The last thing Talyn hears is Veena pleading for his life. His mind races as the EMP shudders through him. What had she been about to say? _"Like I have two brothers"? _Bad enough his mother still thinks he died at the command carrier. Worse how Bialar will take it, after all he's been through for Talyn. Getting shot in front of his new "sister" is like a cosmic kick in the eema.


	6. The Need for Experimental Proof

When Bialar returns to Gemmi's quarters, he finds her hunched over a portable console, fingers flying on the keypad. Her lips are compressed into a thin line, her brow furrowed in concentration. He notes with some disappointment that she hasn't bothered to bathe, or to let her hair down as she usually does at night.

"Turn away from me," she barks, without taking her eyes off the small screen.

"Not your usual request," he remarks. "If this is some experiment..."

She raises her eyes to look at him with a pseudo-confidence he recognizes from his military days. What he sees in her now is the delusory calm of someone whose actions are driven by utter desperation. "I want to help you. Turn away from me so I can access your memory."

He opens his mouth to argue, then closes it. Protesting would be an exercise in futility. His little Kalish goddess will do as she pleases, or as the Scarrans command her, and with his actions linked to Talyn's continued existence, he can't stop her. He turns his back, as she requested, flexing his fists in frustration.

Gemmi rises from her chair and comes to stand behind him. He feels the cool touch of her fingers on the back of his neck, then hot agony as something slices through his synthetic skin. A moment later, he reels, and she catches him in her arms. She stumbles with him to the bed, where they collapse together.

After perhaps a tenth arn, he is able to speak. "What did you do to me?"

She tangles a hand in his hair and brushes her cheek against his. "The only thing I could to protect you. Bialar, I don't know what will happen to me. I had to leave you able to defend yourself. No one else knows I removed the contingency codes. If they did--"

"I understand. Without the leverage of the fail safes, they would have no use for bioloid 354 or 355."

He searches her eyes, looking for any hint of deception, and finds none. Even so, how can he trust her to choose his wishes over those of her superiors? If asked a few arns ago, he would have said that she cares nothing for Bialar Crais, only for the accomplishment of having resurrected him. Removing the fail safes, if that's truly what she did, will place her career, even her life, in jeopardy. The Scarrans will hold her accountable for any of his actions that compromise their plans. He cannot afford to trust her word, not when doing so requires him to believe that she cares for him as much as he does for Talyn or Aeryn.

There is only one way to tell if she has done what she claims. One small act of violence should result in excruciating pain for him, a final warning that he is about to trigger the self-destruct. He squeezes her wrist until her fingers relax, allowing him to remove her hand from his hair. Still holding her wrist, he sits up and then strikes her across the face with a hard, open-handed blow. He should be in blinding pain, yet what he feels is something else entirely.

Gemmi gasps and tries to twist away from him. Even in his Sebaccean body he would have been able to dominate her. With his titanium frame and biomechanoid muscles, he does not even need to exert himself.

He strikes her again, savoring the rush of gratification he hasn't felt in over two cycles. As a bioloid, he will never again experience the sweet intoxication of reslak, but what he feels now is the same exhilaration that has always come when he is able to release his frustrations through physical force.

With one hand, he pins both her wrists to the wall above the bed. He can truly possess her now, on his own terms, as his own man, not her creation. He uses his free hand to pull at her clothing and his own. As he enters her, crushing her body with his, she turns her face away, biting her lip to keep from calling out. A trickle of blood runs from the corner of her mouth and down her chin, spreading as it mingles with the stream of tears flowing from her eyes. Even now, she protects him with her silence.

That thought shatters his violence-induced euphoria. He disengages from her and steps back, careful to keep himself between her and the door. "Gemmi, I-- I had to know if the fail safes were truly gone."

She nods, not meeting his eyes. "I know. I'm Kalish, Bialar. Empiricism is in my blood. I understand the need for experimental proof. I was the only possible subject for that experiment. Anyone else would have alerted the Scarran guards." The blood still trickling from the corner of her mouth belies the lack of emotion in her voice.

"It was more than an experiment, and for that I am sorry." He wishes she had a transponder for him, that she could read his circuits as he used to be able to read Talyn's. Then she would know that he means what he is about to say. "I will not harm you again. You have my word." He wants to touch her, wants to be with her as he was before tonight. He wishes he could remove the memory of the last few macrots from her mind as easily as she lifted the fail safes from his.

She does meet his eyes now, her expression one of genuine curiosity. "Talyn's violent outbursts are not coincidence, are they? That's why you didn't want me to modify him. You thought you could teach him to control his flawed thinking as you have your own."

He sits down on the edge of the bed farthest from her and nods. "A Leviathan's neural network is constructed of blocks from both its parents. Since Talyn had no natural father, his thinking was heavily shaped during our initial link. He had... gaps that needed filling, and I provided the only available template."

Gemmi draws her legs up and rests her chin on her knees, crossing her wrists in front of her ankles. "If I had seen the other data spools of Crais, I would never have advocated this endeavor. What I saw in the older data streams... I didn't think it meshed with what I found on Talyn's memory spools. Now I see it's all part of the same whole."

"Are you regretting your creation?" His own voice sounds hollow as he asks that question. If Gemmi gives the wrong response, he may have to break his promise not to harm her. For Talyn's sake, he cannot allow her to discontinue the project.

She shakes her head. "It's not that. You were never my creation. I couldn't have envisioned such a construct of contradictions."

He moves closer to her, expecting her to dart for the door.

Instead, she leans into him and puts her head on his shoulder. "Like I said before, you won't hurt me unless you have a reason to. So I'm not scared of you, no matter what you've done. Perhaps you're right, and the battles you and Talyn fight against yourselves make you stronger. I think-- I know it's that strength that I love."

He wipes the blood from her mouth with his sleeve. "Perhaps Talyn and I both need our algorithms altered."

The door flies open, admitting two uniformed Kalish, a man and a woman, both carrying weapons. The woman raises hers and recites, "Senior Technician Gemmina Treana Delonik, upon analysis of your evaluation, you have been recommended for further assessment. Failure to comply will necessitate the use of force."

Bialar stands, tensed and ready to fight, but Gemmi grabs his arm. "Remember the fail safes! Don't do anything stupid!" She stands up, throws her arms around his neck and kisses him, then brings her mouth close to his ear to whisper, "You need the data chip in my portable console. They prepared a prowler for you to take when they found Moya. Just take the chip and go!"

The Kalish man shakes his head in disgust. "She really is farbot. What do you think we should do with 354?"

The woman snaps a ring around Gemmi's neck and Bialar watches in horror as the eyes that have regarded him with so many emotions now go blank. "Leave it here. I don't think it'll be much trouble, not with Gemmi's fail safes. She's farbot, no doubt, but she was a competent tech."

Bialar feels a familiar emotion sweep through him, carrying reason away at starburst speed. He seizes the woman's holstered weapon and shoots them both in the chest. As he suspected, the gun only fires a weak EMP, enough to stun the victims, but not enough to do lasting damage.

He rips the collar from Gemmi's neck and she convulses, falling to her knees beside her attackers.

When she regains enough control to speak, she hisses, "I told you to go! You should have left me! What the frell are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to guard these two. You're going to find Jayza and Talyn."


	7. No Alternative

Gemmi bends to pick up the collar Bialar stripped from her neck. "Good. It's undamaged." She puts it around the unconscious woman's neck and snaps it shut.

"What is it?" Bialar asks.

"A neural suppressor. It reduces the wearer to roughly the intellect of a newborn drannit. If left on for more than a few arns, it can cause permanent damage. They probably would have let me rot in it." She picks up the man's stun weapon and shoots him with it, sending a weak shiver through his already unconscious body and evoking a stream of drool from his mouth. "He should be out for at least a solar day. She's neutralized, at least until someone takes off the suppressor."

"Excellent. They should not require supervision, which means we go together to find Jayza and Talyn." Bialar reaches for Gemmi's arm. He hadn't liked the idea of leaving her alone, not when she may again need his protection.

A knock at the door startles him and causes Gemmi to jump with a small yelp of surprise. A young, female voice calls through the comm speaker. "Senior Technician Gemmi? I need your help, please! It's Talyn."

Gemmi pushes the button and the door slides open. Bialar is assaulted with a stench that would have made his Sebaccean stomach heave. In the doorway, a half-grown Scarran girl stands covered in filth, with a man's body draped over her shoulder like a sack of grain. She steps inside and drops her burden. Although the "man" is as soiled as the Scarran, Bialar drops to his knees, reaching to cup the still face in his hands.

"Talyn? Talyn!" Bialar slaps the bioloid's cheeks, but gets no response.

"Frelling hazmota!" Gemmi curses. "Don't bother with that. Look at the blast mark on his chest! They hit him with a strong EMP blast. It's not Talyn anymore, just 355."

The Scarran sniffs. "It's because he came to see me. They banned him from the med deck, and he came anyway, because he was worried about me and my brother. One of the nurses called the guards, and I begged them not to shoot, but they wouldn't listen. Then they... they threw him d-down the waste chute!"

"And you retrieved him." Bialar stares at her scaled face, puzzled. "Scarrans aren't known for their altruism."

"He was my friend!" The Scarran lashes out with her heat ray.

Gemmi wobbles, clutching Bialar's shoulders for support. "Easy, Veena. We all care about Talyn. I have him backed up on a data chip, and Jayza can clean up 355 so we'll have a nice place to put him. He'll be just as he was before."

Veena shakes her head. "No. Senior Technician Jayza's gone. Her techs say _they_ came and took her, just like they tried to take you." She gestures to the unconscious Kalish. "It's all because of me. I was trying to show the girls that Talyn wasn't so bad, that they didn't have to be afraid of him. I startled him..."

"I know the story," Bialar interrupts. He turns to Gemmi. "I was counting on Jayza's assistance. I thought she could make a decoy with your likeness. Is there anyone else who could do that?"

Gemmi shakes her head. "No one here who would." She retrieves her portable console, pulls out a data chip, and hands it to Veena. "A copy of Talyn for safekeeping, in case anything happens to Bialar, or to me." She presses a second data chip into Bialar's hand, and puts a third in her own pocket.

"Can't you fix him now?" Veena demands.

"No. Installing a living consciousness is a complex process. It's not something I've automated. We have to get 355 away to a safe place where I can work with him."

The sound of footsteps in the hallway stuns all three of them to silence. After a few microts, Gemmi slams the door button, locking it. She then keys in a series of rapid commands. "That should keep them out a bit longer. Then what?"

Before either Bialar or Veena can respond, someone pounds on the door.

Veena raises a clawed hand and closes her eyes in concentration. The air between her hand and the door warps and shimmers as she applies her heat ray. "Frell! Scarrans!"

"I take it the stun weapons are useless?" Bialar looks at Gemmi.

She nods sharply.

Veena groans. "That means there's only one place we can go."

"And that would be?" Gemmi prods.

"Where I spent the last two arns. At least I know my way around."

Gemmi's eyes widen. "You don't mean the waste chute?"

Bialar shrugs. "We have no alternative. Show me the opening and I'll go first. I can help Veena down next, then you can throw Tal-- er, 355 down. Veena and I will both help you."

"Fine. It's on the wall behind you." Gemmi jerks her head toward a flat metal panel with a large button in the center.

Bialar presses the button and the panel slides open, revealing a stench that matches that of Veena and 355. He motions Veena to come stand beside him and places both hands on her shoulders, using her to support himself as he clambers into the chute, feet first. The cold metallic walls touch his body on all sides, and he fights a growing sense of claustrophobia as he slides downward, slowed both by friction and by various sticky substances that have accumulated on the sides of the chute. Finally, his feet land in something soft and he finds himself in a large, open area full of multifarious debris.

"Hurry!" He calls to the others. He can hear the Scarrans pounding on Gemmi's door.

Veena lands beside him, stumbles from the force of her landing, and falls to her hands and knees. The bioloid that once housed Talyn comes next, and Bialar just manages to catch it before it crushes the Scarran girl. A loud "thud" reverberates down the shoot, followed by Gemmi's screaming. The sound tears at Bialar's already-raw emotions, and then it stops as abruptly as if someone flipped a switch.

Veena meets his eyes and wraps her scaled fingers around his hand. "Frell. I think they've collared her."


	8. Incalculable Value

Veena moves her hand to Bialar's elbow and tugs. "Come on. All the waste chutes lead down here, so we should be able to crawl up the one that goes to the docking bay."

"Is Gemmi being taken from this research station?" Bialar asks as he follows her, the lifeless form of bioloid 355 slung over his shoulder as he makes his way through the uneven layer of refuse.

"Probably." Veena stretches out her free hand and for a moment, Bialar is enveloped in the warmth of her unseen touch. Warmed by her heat ray, the garbage around him takes on a stronger smell. "So Senior Technician Gemmi wasn't farbot. You're a living consciousness too, just like Talyn. And the rumors about you and her were true. I'm sorry."

He stops. Still holding his elbow, Veena turns to face him.

"You're not suggesting I abandon her to the Scarrans?" He demands.

"No. She didn't break any Scarran laws. If the guards arrested her, it's because one of the Kalish called them. From the rumors I've heard, I think she's being taken for assessment."

_Assessment. _Bialar marvels at how easily a bureaucracy can take a simple word and imbue it with an aura of menace. "Veena, tell me exactly what that means. To my knowledge, Gemmi is the only person capable of reviving Talyn. Will she be able to do so after her _assessment _is completed?"

"No. It means they're going to use her as a case study. A senior level scholar like her, going insane? They'll want to know exactly what went wrong. She'll be probed, stress-tested... The word I heard Jayza's techs using was 'vivisected'. No one survives assessment." She begins walking again, pulling Bialar with her.

"Can you enlist anyone else to help with this? Some of the Scarrans, perhaps? It would be foolish for them to allow an asset like Gemmi to be destroyed." Even as he speaks those words, he realizes they contain a false assumption about the logic of those in power. The Peacekeepers were on the brink of wormhole technology and yet they wanted to halt Scorpius's research.

Veena shakes her head. "They don't realize what she's done, other than create a rogue bioloid that sent me and my brother to the med deck. And make one for her own... personal use."

"I was lead to believe that my purpose was to bring John Crichton to Scarran central command."

"It was. Once I finished my lessons each solar day, part of my duties involved running the station sensors, looking for Moya. I also went through volumes and volumes of incoming transmissions, trying to find a hint of Crichton or any of his friends. Some of the Kalish techs were looking too. Talyn tried to help as well, but none of us found anything. That means there's no use for you, as far as the Scarrans are concerned."

"If I have no utility, I have no leverage, which means no way to negotiate for Gemmi's life." Bialar desperately wants to strike something, but restrains himself. Stopping to pound walls would likely bring inquisitive maintenance workers.

Veena nods. "They have a Peacekeeper prowler in the docking bay. It must be for you, since none of us would know how to fly it and none of the Kalish are allowed to leave."

"You are suggesting I abandon her! That is not a possibility. We have to find weapons, something capable of deterring a Scarran--"

"You'll have to find another bioloid programmer who can figure out how to fix Talyn. There's no way the two of us could get Gemmi free without getting caught." She takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Senior Technician Jayza was a good friend. She let me help her with the bioloids sometimes. She even said I could be a tech someday. She didn't assume I'm stupid and clumsy because I'm a Scarran. Don't you think if there was any way I could save her..." She sniffles and sobs, sounding exactly like a hurt little Sebaccean girl.

Bialar stares at her scaled features, studying her expression of despair. A cycle ago, if someone had told him he would see a Scarran child crying over a Kalish woman's death, he would have laughed. He wonders if there are more Scarrans like her, or if Veena is unique.

_Unique. _Like Crichton with his wormholes or Gemmi with her ability to install a living consciousness on a bioloid. _Unique. _Like Bialar Crais, resurrected by the love of a Leviathan hybrid and the curiosity of a Kalish technician. Like Talyn, a half-broken synthetic mind existing only on a datachip. If something is unique, then its worth is binary; if it is needed at all, then it has incalculable value, and can be matched only with another unique item.

Bialar smiles at the unique creature still holding his arm in one scaly, taloned paw. So great is his rush of goodwill that he shakes off her hand and throws an arm around her shoulders. Standing in filth to his ankles and holding the young Scarran to his side, he reflects that he has redefined the phrase "irreversibly contaminated".

Veena tilts her head to look up at him, puzzled. "What?"

"You're going to save Gemmi, Jayza, and Talyn."

"I can't!" she protests.

He turns her toward him and looks her in the eyes. "Give me two arns to get away in the prowler, and then deliver the following message: Bialar Crais has left to rendezvous with John Crichton at a secret location. He will be willing to trade Crichton for Senior Technicians Gemmina and Jayza, in full health and completely unharmed. When he is ready to deliver Crichton, he will be in contact."

She nods slowly. "The life of one friend for three. That makes perfect sense in a Kalish sort of way."

"What would you have me do? Besides, Crichton isn't a friend, per se." Bialar frowns, impatient at her reluctance.

"What is he then?"

"A man of surprising resources. And the closest thing to an ally or a bargaining chip we have. He's also someone who owes me a great deal."

"I'll deliver your message," Veena agrees. "And I'll make sure the sensors don't pick up the vector of your prowler. Are you really going to be able to meet with Crichton?"

"When I find him, yes, I believe he will meet with me. His sense of honor will demand it."

"Then it's like the fail safes that Gemmi put in your head, isn't it?" Veena muses. "He can't just do what he wants to. I suppose it's like us caring about Talyn and Jayza and Gemmi. That's the chute, by the way, the one that leads to the docking bay." She points to an opening.

Bialar lowers 355 to the floor and turns to face Veena. "Never confuse the chains you've chosen with those others have imposed. Can you lift him up to me after I've climbed through the chute?"

She nods. "I can. It's a short chute. Not like the one from Gemmi's quarters."

He ducks inside, stands, and reaches upward to feel the walls of the chute. As Veena surmised, the panel at the top is within reach. It swings out when Bialar pushes it, and he is able to grab the edge and hoist himself up. He reaches back inside and feels the thick hair of 355. At least Jayza's handiwork gives him something easy to hold on to.

Once he has pulled the bioloid through the opening, he calls down to Veena, "Thank you for all of your assistance. And remember, two arns."

"I will," she calls back. "I'll be watching the sensors for you every day, Bialar Crais."

Her words trail off in a way that indicates she's walking away. He shouts down the chute, "Veena, wait! Be sure to tell them I threatened you in order to coerce cooperation."

He receives no reply and wonders if she heard. His conscience is no more pristine than his current clothing; the fate of one Scarran shouldn't matter to him, as long as she delivers her message. Still, he knows he will carry a nagging worry in the back of his mind until he sees her safe. Since casting off the chains of the Peacekeepers, Bialar has replaced them many times over with bonds of his own choosing. As he drags 355 into the prowler, he ponders how he can possibly still feel so free.


	9. Still Slated for Assessment

Click. The awareness ponders the sound that just filled its senses, even as new sensations vie for dominance. There is the burning cold of a surface, the dull throb that feels somehow closer to the center of the awareness, and the sudden discomfort of realizing that it is aware.

"Gemmina." Another sensation like the "click," a _sound_.

The awareness remembers sounds now, remembers other awarenesses use them to communicate. _Words. Names_. _Voices. _

"I don't think she understands yet. Give her a macrot. She had the collar on almost six arns." That voice is soft, feminine.

She. Her. The awareness remembers being a "she," remembers the sound of her own voice, so high and soft that she struggled to make herself sound serious and stern. Now, she'll be glad if she can make a sound come out, any sound. "Where? What?" Question words. Those are the ones she wants.

"Is there a way to reverse the damage?" The voice that spoke those words is deeper, masculine and familiar.

"We don't even know if there is damage. Be patient. And be glad you caught us when you did. We were about to begin with electrode insertion." The woman's voice sounds amused.

"The other technician, Jayza..." The man's voice trails off in a way that suggests he wants to ask a question, but is afraid of the answer.

"Beyond recovery, I'm afraid."

"Frell. Put her in a stasis field anyway. The Scarrans want them both alive and in tact. Can you at least salvage her appearance? If she looks undamaged, they may still be able to use her as bait."

"As you wish." The woman's next words come from somewhere closer, and are accompanied by a warm sensation and an unpleasant smell. "Gemmina? Gemmina, open your eyes."

_Gemmina. Eyes. Open. _The awareness fumbles for meanings to fit those words.

"Oh, leave us. She needs someone familiar to trigger her memory. Gemmi!" That word is followed by a sharp sound and a microt of acute pain that dwarfs the dull throbbing.

"You!" Light stabs through her eyes as she looks up at the familiar face of her direct superior, Director Kidan. "How could you let them do this to me? You authorized the Living Consciousness project, said I had full authority to conduct the experiment, and then--"

"And then I watched two of my most valued technicians go completely farbot. I tried to protect you, but when 355 attacked a security officer's children, what did you expect? The facility still exists primarily because the Scarrans valued my work."

"Your work? Could you even write a line of bioloid code? Could you make a likeness close enough to fool a mother or a lover?" Gemmi laughs, knowing it sounds forced and false, but unable to think of anything that could hurt Kidan more than her contempt.

"No," he admits. "That's why I relied on you and Jayza to perform work of an appropriate caliber! When you created serviceable tools for the Scarrans, I rose in favor and rewarded you accordingly by extending your tenure. When your... experiment became a danger to the Scarran children, I could no longer justify expending currency on your upkeep. And when you started frelling 354, I looked like a farbot fool, Gemmi!"

"That's why I'm here, isn't it? That's really why I'm here!" This time, her laughter flows as naturally as blood from a wound. "This isn't about Veena and Zinoch. You're embarrassed by my personal behavior."

He shrugs. "I hold high standards for my own achievement, and I believed the project to be a failure. Tell yourself whatever stories you like regarding my inner machinations."

"Believed?" She repeats.

Kidan grimaces. "Recently, bioloid 354 has displayed behavior outside the range of reasonable prediction but within the estimated parameters of normalcy for Bialar Crais."

Gemmi smiles. "I removed the fail safes. I only wish you had gotten in his way."

"Yes, well, he made a quiet exit. Despite his history of violence, Crais is not a stupid man. He appears to prefer the calculated application of leverage to the path of brute force. He's demanding you and Jayza in exchange for the fugitive John Crichton. I intend to have you in tact for the exchange."

Her heart jumps. "Then the assessment is canceled! You're setting me free! I can continue the project, try to sort through the data spools for information on the process of uploading a consciousness. The implications of this research are--"

"No." Kidan shakes his head for emphasis. "Until and unless your bioloid is able to give the Scarrans something they want, this project is still a failure, and you are still slated for assessment. I've simply given the order that no irreversible damage is to be done."

"But I am the only scholar ever able to transfer a living mind to a bioloid body!" she protests. "There is so much more I can do!"

He chuckles in a way that conveys no humor, only bitterness. "Would you like to know the truth, Gemmina? You are at this very moment illustrating exactly why you are here. You forget that I am the scholar and you are simply an instrument of my work, as you forget that 354 is only a machine. You have no sense of the proper order of things, and I have no use for a technician that fancies herself my superior." He pivots and walks out of her sight.

She hears a door close, leaving her with only the maddening hum of machinery in her ears and the aching cold of the metal surface on which she lays. She tries not to think about what they'll do to her, instead calling up the image of Bialar's face and the sound of his voice. He could have left in the prowler without making demands, but he wouldn't leave her here to die, not when only she can help Talyn.

She had never needed a Scarran heat ray to see that Crais and Talyn were real. From the moment Bialar had laid eyes on 355, Gemmi had been sure of her own success. She had never been able to create such convincing affection and probably never would be able to. Watching the two of them together, she had realized the futility of her life's work, and she had found a new purpose.

As the door opens, admitting three Kalish in sterile suits, Gemmi reminds herself of that purpose. She will learn to transfer a living mind directly to a bioloid. Perhaps she can use what she learns to save Jayza. Whatever they've done to Jayza, surely there is enough of her consciousness remaining that Gemmi can decompile it, recompile it, and give her friend a second chance.

Whatever they do to her, they won't stop her from being able to do that. They won't destroy her mind. By making her his bargaining chip, Bialar has ensured her ultimate safety. She has to believe that, has to hold that thought like a talisman, clutch it like a lifeline.

How else could she endure such blinding pain?


	10. The Apparition

**Note: **This takes place immediately following "Natural Election". Events for characters other than Crais and Talyn can be assumed to have followed canon until this point, at which the timeline diverges.

"Officer Sun, Moya and I have located something we wish to show you." Pilot's voice on the comm wakes Aeryn from a pleasant dream.

"Shouldn't you be showing D'Argo? He's the captain now. Interrupt his sleep cycle." She yawns and rearranges her body into a more comfortable position. If she has to report to a short-tempered Luxan, she should at least be able to get more sleep because of it.

"No, Officer Sun, I believe you are best equipped to receive this transmission."

"Fine," she mutters, sitting up and then pulling on her boots.

Curiosity has shaken all traces of sleep from her mind. Her thoughts race as she makes her way to the clamshell. Who could be trying to find her? Some grieved family member upset that she did her job so well? Someone hoping to become a client? Either way, she wants nothing to do with the situation. Her days as an assassin are over.

She rifles through her past, randomly thinking of faces and names. Everyone she might want to hear from is gone, including the mother she barely remembers, the father she never knew, and the man who began as her superior, became her enemy, and ended his life as an ally. She had friends once, children she grew up with, men and women who come to mind whenever Crichton tells stories of his sisters or Chiana waxes sentimental over her brother. They've all departed for whatever hezmana awaits fallen Peacekeepers. Whoever it is on the clamshell, it can't be anyone she wants to see, unless it's a ghost.

Standing in front of the clamshell, she squeezes her eyes shut, shakes her head, and whispers, "It isn't him." However, when she opens them, the apparition not only persists, but speaks.

"Aeryn Sun! It is good to see you!" Bialar's voice sounds as she remembers it, each word precise and clipped, his tone rich and deep.

"You should be dead."

He smiles. "Were it not for a Kalish goddess and a Scarran angel, I would be."

"Now I know you're not Crais. He has no love for Kalish or Scarrans. Who the frell are you and what is it you want?" She bends her head to speak into her comm. "Pilot, what are his coordinates?"

"I cannot tell," Pilot replies.

"Frell!" She wants to kick something.

"I had hoped for a warmer reception," the man on the clamshell mutters. "My coordinates are disguised. I will be glad to send them by encrypted transmission if Moya will have me aboard. I must warn you, I am here to request assistance."

"Well you won't get it by wearing his face! What are you? An Ancient? A shape-shifter? Bialar Crais became a good man, better than I ever gave him credit for. I don't like being reminded of--" _Of how I __spurned his kindness after my John died. Of the way I accused him of acting on ulterior motives. Of how none of us trusted him until he frelling died to keep the wormhole weapons from Scorpius. Of the fact that he could have accomplished the same thing by putting a pulse blast through John's head. _She doesn't want to say any of this to the stranger in the Crais mask. "--of a friend who is gone."

He raises an eyebrow and his mouth quirks in a half-smile. "Aeryn, I am honored by your loyalty. What must I say to convince you I am the man to whom you are being loyal? Would you like to know how Talyn's starburst chamber differed from Moya's? How many times I ordered you on a reconnaissance mission when I was your captain? The content of the datachip I gave you regarding your past?"

She stares at the familiar face on the clamshell, looking for anything to contradict his claimed identity. His hair hangs loose around his shoulders, and he no longer wears a Peacekeeper uniform, but those things are to be expected. Perhaps he is indeed the real Bialar Crais, and not some carefully concocted illusion designed to match her memory.

She allows herself to feel a small surge of hope and returns his smile. "Send Pilot your coordinates."

"Thank you, Aeryn." He vanishes from the clamshell.

Unable to return to bed, she makes her way to Pilot's den, where she slumps against his console. "How many arns until we pick him up, Pilot?"

"Approximately six." Pilot's voice has a note of tension.

"What's wrong?" Aeryn asks. "Did he tell you more about what it is he wants?"

"No." Pilot shakes his head. "However, Moya does not trust him. She believed he and Talyn made their sacrifice together, joined as a pilot and Leviathan should be. If he is alive, that means he deceived us."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Aeryn admits. "We don't know how he survived, though. We should at least hear him out."

"Moya agrees."

"And you, Pilot? You haven't said what you think." She reaches out to stroke one of his claws, once again overcome with affection for this gentle, self-effacing creature.

His luminous eyes narrow to golden slits. With his next words, his voice deepens and takes on an edge. "Captain Bialar Crais was ultimately responsible for murdering Moya's former pilot, and for everything that was done to her by the Peacekeepers. She was able to forgive him because he gave her Talyn, but I have never considered that as a point of redemption. Talyn caused Moya nothing but suffering. The same could be said of Crais."

"That's not true, Pilot! Moya loved Talyn, and she's proud of what he did at the command carrier. As far as what Crais was, I was the same. You've forgiven me." He has turned his face away from her, so she moves in order to look him in the eyes. "Haven't you?"

"Yes. That is why I am allowing Crais to come aboard. Perhaps in time I will decide he has also become something more." 


	11. What to Do With Him

Bialar steps out of the prowler into a crowded docking bay. Aeryn beams at him, her dark eyes shining with emotion. Close at her side, Crichton smiles as well, although his hand hovers near his pulse pistol. He would have made an excellent Peacekeeper, that one. Rygel scrutinizes Bialar with the appraising eyes of a gambler trying to see an opponent's bluff. Ka D'Argo wears a broad grin, happy to accept the return of a fallen comrade at face value. The Nebari, Chiana, lounges at D'Argo's side and favors Crais with a slightly suggestive smirk.

Two new faces stare as well. An ancient Traskan wearing a heap of rags wiggles her fingers in greeting, then turns her attention to the pouch on her belt, digging in it and muttering. Standing apart from the others, a young Kalish woman regards him with the same intense curiosity she would no doubt show if handed an interesting plant or a new electronic device.

Aeryn steps toward him and briefly squeezes both his arms in greeting. "I don't know how you survived, but I'm glad you're here. Whatever we can do to assist you, we will."

Crichton claps him on the shoulder. "What she said, man. You pulled a real Darth Vader there at the end, so as far as I'm concerned, we're cool. As long as your story checks out."

"John!" Aeryn snaps.

Bialar holds up a hand to quiet her. "I understand. I expected there would be questions surrounding my return."

Crichton gestures to the old woman. "This is Noranti." He cups a hand to his mouth and adds in an exaggerated whisper, "Watch out for her!" Next, he gestures to the Kalish woman. "And she's Sikozu. Oh, and D'Argo's the captain now, so it's him you'll have to convince if you want anything from us."

Bialar nods to both women and then pulls a data chip out of his pocket. "I have some information to share that will help me explain myself."

"Right on." Crichton jerks his head toward the door, then turns to lead everyone from the room.

Seated around a large table, they all watch as Bialar inserts the data chip and brings up the image of the Kalish research station. Having access to the station's comms, Veena was able to send him all the data he requested before he fell out of range, so he has all the coordinated and schematics he needs, as well as visual aids. He pauses, mentally rehearsing his edited story. If they suspect he is a bioloid, his chances of gaining their trust will be gone. Judging by Aeryn's reaction when she saw him on the clamshell, she would put a pulse blast through him and consider it a favor to the "real" Bialar Crais, the one whose memory he disgraces by his very existence. Despite his claims otherwise, Crichton is, at heart, a military man, and would believe all of Bialar's words to be part of some Scarran plot. Ka D'Argo may be captain in name, but Crichton still wields an impressive amount of influence over the others. If Bialar loses Crichton's trust, then Gemmi and Talyn are lost.

"I know that place!" Sikozu blurts. "It was captured by the Scarrans twenty cycles ago. Before that, it housed the best Kalish scientists."

Bialar feels a rush of gratitude toward her for authenticating even a part of his story. "Correct. In fact, it still is a center of Kalish research, although all their efforts are directed toward advancing the Scarran empire. This is where the Scarran reconnaissance teams brought the wreckage of the command carrier."

"Including all the little frozen puzzle pieces that come together to make Bialar Crais?" Crichton asks.

"In a manner of speaking, yes." Bialar pushes a button and changes the image to that of Gemmi's file hologram. " Senior Technician Gemmina Treana Delonik. She is responsible for my continued existence."

Chiana reaches out a hand toward the hologram. "She's so pretty..." She tilts her head and looks from Bialar to Gemmi and back again. "So, you and her, huh? I can tell from the look on your face. She in trouble? Is that what you need our help with?"

"So let me get this straight," Crichton says. "You and Talyn get blown to bits and Florence Nightingale here brings you back to life. Sikozu, is that even possible?"

Sikozu shakes her head so vehemently that her copper curls strike Chiana in the face. "Not remotely! Even if it were possible to reassemble Sebaccean body parts, there would be cellular damage due to the formation of ice crystals. On the macro level, it poses challenge enough, but on the microscopic level? Impossible!"

Crichton shrugs. "And I can give you ten reasons right now why faster than light travel is impossible."

"Then why ask her opinion at all?" Rygel grumbles.

"Hoping for a different answer, I guess." Crichton shrugs.

"I can give you another reason that might be simple enough for your brain to process," Sikozu offers. "Gemmina is a bioloid programmer, not a medical doctor. It says so right next to her hologram, if you could read it. Even if it were possible to do what Crais is suggesting, she wouldn't be trained to do it."

"She's a what?" D'Argo asks.

"Bi-o-loid programmer," Sikozu repeats slowly. "A bioloid is a type of artificial biomechanoid life form."

"Gemmi was only one member of a team!" Bialar interrupts hastily.

"'Gemmi'?" Chiana repeats with a smile.

"I believe I have the solution!" Noranti holds up a finger in a triumphant gesture. The others look at her with various expressions that range from amusement to disgust. She stands up and moves close to Bialar, then opens her fist and blows across her flat palm, sending a spray of sharp-smelling dust at his face.

"What is this?" Bialar demands, brushing the substance from his cheeks and wiping it from his eyes.

"I told you to watch out for her," Crichton mutters, smirking.

The old woman blinks all three eyes in confusion. "Strange. He should be coughing."

Bialar makes a few small coughing sounds, hoping the response is not late enough to arouse more suspicion.

"No, no..." Noranti shakes her head, staring vacantly. "No, it's maridia root that causes coughing. Or is it garlan berries? Never mind. I used mendacina leaves. If he tells a lie, he'll start vomiting, develop a green facial rash, and have two arns of painful convulsions."

"Very good!" Sikozu raises an eyebrow in admiration. "So we just have him say something false in order to make sure the drug has taken effect."

"Uh, that's not really necessary," Crichton disagrees.

Sikozu sighs. "Logic would dictate--"

"Basic courtesy would dictate that we listen to the rest of his story before we interrogate him!" Aeryn interrupts.

"Thank you, Aeryn." Bialar nods in her direction. "To continue, Gemmi was interested in my recovery solely as a scientific endeavor, but the Scarrans would not authorize the project unless it had military value. They were able to ascertain my identity from data spools recovered from the command carrier, and they hoped to use me to spy on you, John Crichton."

"And let me guess, you accepted the bargain? And you're going to say it's because they're threatening Gemmina here." Crichton gestures to the hologram. "I knew the whole born-again thing was too good to be true. Ok, so you're going to ask me to help you rescue the beautiful Kalish princess from the big bad Scarrans. I'll go along with it because I'm the stupidest being in the Uncharted Territories, and then your new buddies can tear open my head like a box of Crackerjacks and dig for the prize."

"That is not the outcome I hope for," Bialar replies.

"The answer is no!" D'Argo barks. "I won't be a part of any plan that leads to the Scarrans getting Crichton."

"So we think of a plan that works!" Chiana protests. "Come on, Crichton, if it were Aeryn, you'd think of something!"

"I have a plan for you. We starburst in the opposite direction of anything Scarran and hope Gemmina has a nice afterlife," Rygel offers.

"I think he's sincere," Aeryn says.

"Frelling right I am!" Rygel agrees.

Aeryn shakes her head. "I meant Bialar. I believe his intentions are good."

"Enough!" D'Argo pounds a fist on the table. "For now, we put him in a holding cell. Then we decide what to with him."


	12. What It Is She'll Find

Chiana pads through the hallway to Moya's docking bay, looking over her shoulder every few microts. She doesn't know what she'll find in Crais's prowler, but she wants a chance to look through it alone, without anyone telling her to her to mind her own business or demanding to see things before she can even take a look. The others have already decided not to trust the former Peacekeeper, except for Aeryn, who's seems to think he's some kind of blessed martyr who can do no wrong.

Chiana knows better. People aren't good or evil, they just do things for their own reasons. It's a matter of finding out what Crais's reasons are, and there are only two ways to do that. The first one is searching the prowler to see if any of his possessions give away more of his story than he will. The second is trying to get him in a sharing kind of mood. She'll try that later, if Aeryn doesn't beat her to it. Or if Aeryn fails. That woman has nice loomas, but she's as stiff as a pulse rifle and gives the impression she'd be about as much fun to go to bed with-- not exactly the type to coax out answers out of a man who doesn't want to give them.

A buzzing sound startles Chiana so badly that she leaps up, twisting her body in mid air, and lands facing the opposite direction. The source of the sound wiggles its antenni in what she suspects is amusement.

She bends down to glare at the DRD. "You think it's funny, scaring people like that? Shoo!" She flicks her hands in the opposite direction of the docking bay. "Go on, go fix something, or whatever it is you do."

The machine ignores her, and when she continues down the hallway, it rolls along beside her.

She shrugs. "Alright, well, if you're going to be that way, then you can help me by keeping a lookout for the others. So, Moya wants to see what's up with Crais too, huh? That why you're tailing me?"

The DRD blinks once.

Inside the prowler, she feels a vague sense of disappointment. No piles of stolen currency glitter in the storage area. No weapons cache reveals itself. It does appear he's modified the main control console, which probably explains how he managed to hide his location from Moya. Unless the modifications are some sort of transmitter, screaming their current location to the Scarrans? She decides she'll ask Cricthon about it later.

All she finds in the storage area are boxes of food, bottles of water, and a couple of changes of clothing. She unfolds a shirt and then stuffs it back in place. Even the fabric is boring. Maybe if she turns on the console she'll be able to dig for some information. She takes a step toward the front of the prowler and notices the floor gives a little bit beneath her foot. She steps again with more force, then jumps to the side, landing hard on both feet, in order to feel how the "normal" floor reacts.

The DRD imitates her, rolling back and forth over the odd section of floor. It extends one of its tools, a long, jointed arm with a claw at the end, and runs it over the floor until it finds a seam.

"Nice work."

She bends down and uses her fingers to pry at the seam, while the DRD uses its claw. Together, they lift the panel free, revealing something far from boring.

At first, she assumes the young man must be alive. He's been wadded up to fit into the small space, but his face looks so peaceful he could be sleeping. The color of his skin is perfect, for a Sebaccean, darkly exotic like Crais's and without any unusual blotches or marks. He looks like someone she'd like to have fun with, definitely not someone she'd want to knock out and stuff under the floor. Crais sure as hezmana has some explaining to do.

Chiana reaches out to stroke one of the young man's cheeks. "Hey, wake up!"

His face feels cold against her skin and he gives no response, even when she takes him by the shoulder and shakes him. She reaches under his arms and pulls him up onto the floor of the prowler, straining against his weight. Cradling his head in her lap, she surveys the rest of his body, all perfect save for a gruesome spot on his chest where it looks like the skin has been melted. She feels for a pulse and is overcome with revulsion when she finds none. She doesn't even know how long he's been dead!

Shuddering, she stands up and darts out of the prowler, anxious to find someone, anyone other than Crais or Scorpius, and tell about the dead man. She doesn't even want to think about whether there are any more people stashed in that prowler. In fact, for now, she only wants to know one thing-- is Crais still locked away where he belongs?


	13. Standing in Your Heart

Bialar paces the width of the cell, mentally replaying the reactions to his presentation. Rygel's response he could have predicted, not that it matters; no one listens to Hynerians. Ka D'Argo's resistance was also to be expected, as was Crichton's. Aeryn's wholehearted support came as a welcome surprise, one that touches him more deeply than he cares to admit, even in his own thoughts. The fact that Gemmi's hologram struck a romantic chord for Chiana is another stroke of fortune, although not nearly enough to outweigh the caustic logic offered by Sikozu. Noranti's truth-powder could become a potential problem as well, though only if the others trust her more than they appear to.

Unfortunately, permanently silencing Sikozu is not an option. Even if he were able to make her death appear accidental, the timing would be too convenient. Even Aeryn would be unable to forgive him for cold-blooded murder. In truth, he would be unable to forgive himself, not when his chances of saving Talyn, Gemmi, and Jayza are so slim. Trading an innocent life for a mere chance of saving others is unconscionable, even if the life in question belongs to an abrasive, arrogant girl.

He slumps into the bunk with some reluctance, knowing that when he shuts down for memory processing, he'll dream of Gemmi and Talyn. When he had first told her that he dreamed, Gemmi had squealed with excitement, so pleased with herself that she had decided to spend the morning in bed with him, ignoring her various assignments. Bioloids, she had explained, weren't programmed to dream, which proved that yet another part of his living consciousness was in tact.

Now he half-wishes she would have disabled that part of his mind, sparing him the nightmares in which he once again becomes a vengeance-obsessed madman, driven insane by the loss of Talyn and mourning for Gemmi. There are other dreams as well, even more disturbing in their own way. In them, he is once again aboard Talyn, the Leviathan hybrid, linked by the transponder. Gemmi is there as well, and the three of them are safe from Peacekeepers, Scarrans, and anyone else who would harm them. He wakes from those dreams with a pulse blast of disappointment, feeling the absence of Talyn's mind and Gemmi's touch as keenly as he did when he first set out in the prowler, alone.

Despite his dread of dreaming, he closes his eyes and allows his mind to drift, shutting down the cluttered tangle of conscious processes one by one. His thoughts become nonsensical, degenerating into dreams and finally ceasing altogether.

He awakes to the feel of large hands on his throat as someone drags him out of bed by the neck. He tries to twist out of the attacker's grip, but whoever holds him has surprising strength.

Bialar claws at the man's long fingers. "Who are you?"

His assailant chuckles and responds in a pleasant, urbane tone, "Think of me as the man who is standing in your heart. And I am about to--"

"Scorpius!" Bialar hits the half-breed with an elbow to the sternum, then jumps back, slamming Scorpius against the wall.

That move would have broken his Sebaccean neck, but the bioloid version seems undamaged. While Scorpius continues to strangle him, Bialar braces his feet against the floor and pushes his back into his assailant, compressing his chest and forcing the half-breed to struggle for breath. Scorpius has managed to virtually disable Bialar's cooling mechanism, and with the effort he is exerting, Bialar can feel his temperature rising far above its usual stasis point. The heat may cause him to shut down, but until it does, his body continues to function. Scorpius, in contrast, is beginning to weaken, his cooling rods probably overwhelmed by the combination of his own heightened metabolism and Bialar's overheating components.

After perhaps one hundred microts, Scorpius's fingers weaken enough that Bialar can pry them from around his neck. He then pushes Scorpius to the floor and plants a knee in the small of his back. One of Scorpius's arms is pinned under him, and the other Bialar seizes by the wrist.

With his free hand, Bialar taps his comm. "Captain D'Argo? Aeryn? Crichton? Pilot? I have just finished dealing with an unexpected visitor, and I would like an explanation."

Crichton's voice answers. _Yeah, well, Chiana just got done checking out your prowler, and we'd like a few answers too. You can just sit tight until we check out Chiana's story. And you'd better not have done anything to my buddy 1812. Since when is a Peacekeeper captain afraid of a little DRD, anyway? _

"DRD?" Bialar repeats.

_Diagnostic repair droid, you know, those things we're always tripping over? _

The comm goes dead. Bialar looks outside the door of his cell and sees an oddly-painted DRD. Hopefully, it recorded Scorpius's attack and Bialar will not be viewed as the aggressor, although if they found 355 in the prowler, that may be a moot point.

He twists Scorpius's arm and hears his enemy gasp in pain. Interrogating the half-breed will be a pleasant way to pass the time until Crichton and the others come to see him. To begin, he runs his fingers over the side of Scorpius's head, searching for the release mechanism. When he finds it, the chamber spins out, displaying a glowing, red cooling rod.

"Tell me why you are here on Moya!" Bialar demands.

Scorpius twists his neck so that one eye looks up at Bialar. He speaks, gasping for breath after each word. "I... saved... Aeryn's... life!"

"No doubt because doing so served your interests. And now you're what, a member of the family?" Bialar snorts.

"No. Merely... a... prisoner attempting... to make himself... useful." With that he contorts his body, attempting to throw Bialar off.

Bialar shifts his weight, maintaining his position with minimal difficulty. Under normal circumstances, the Scarran half-breed would be almost an even match for his bioloid strength. On the brink of heat delirium, Scorpius is not even strong enough to best a healthy Sebaccean. Bialar could easily snap Scorpius's neck, completing the act of revenge he thought he had already committed. To do so would bring him momentary satisfaction, but if Scorpius is telling the truth, Aeryn would regret the creature's death.

The thought of hurting Aeryn, the idea of her looking at him with anger and disappointment, ruins the appeal of killing Scorpius. It was Aeryn who showed him that a Peacekeeper can be something more, and she is still the example to which he compares himself. The trust and loyalty he saw in her eyes was all he could have hoped for, and now that he has it, her approval is something he cannot bear to lose.

"DRD!" What had Crichton called it? He fishes for the name. Unable to recall it, he jabs Scorpius with his knee. "What's the name of Crichton's pet droid?"

"He... calls it... 1812," Scorpius rasps.

"1812, can you find a fresh cooling rod for Scorpius?" Bialar asks.

The machine skids back and forth, wiggling its antenni in what might be an expression of deep internal conflict.

"I know you were ordered to watch me, but for Aeryn's sake, can you find one?"

1812 speeds away, apparently as concerned for Aeryn's feelings as Bialar is.

In his current condition, Scorpius poses no immediate threat, and so Bialar stand up, allowing the half-breed to crawl up the to wall, where he slumps, panting. After a few microts rest, he meets Bialar's eyes, his expression one of genuine puzzlement.

"You would forgo revenge for fear of falling from Aeryn's good graces?" Scorpius asks. "And yet you would throw John to the Scarrans. Surely you realize that would grieve her far more than would my death."

"I have no more love of the Scarrans than I have of the Peacekeepers, and no intention of harming Crichton. Aeryn knows this."

"Then I wonder what it is you hope to accomplish by coming here? Without Crichton to exchange, the Scarrans will not release your Kalish technician, assuming that she exists."

Bialar sits down against the opposite wall. "I had hoped that with Crichton's help I could construct a plan to retrieve Gemmi and Jayza."

Scorpius snorts. "I've been through both your minds with the aurora chair and have seen nothing to indicate the feasibility of constructing such a plan. Crichton would not last a solar day under a Scarran heat ray without giving away the secrets of wormhole weapons. However difficult it may be for you, I suggest you find a new recreation partner and forget about the one in Scarran hands."

"She is not simply a recreation partner!" Bialar snaps. "Gemmina holds half the key to immortality and is intelligent enough to realize the other half is within her grasp. With her technology, a Scarran leader can make multiple copies of his own consciousness and then simultaneously command armies in separate planetary systems. Any Scarran killed can be brought back in a perfect body, visually indistinguishable from the original."

"Better that than wormhole weapons." Scorpius waves a dismissive hand, but there is a note of longing in his voice and his eyes shine with greed.

Bialar leans forward as if confiding a secret. "Gemmi and Jayza together could end your dependence on cooling rods, preserving all of your Scarran strength and giving you an ordinary Sebaccean appearance."

Scorpius chuckles. "I must be succumbing to heat delirium. My enemy offers me the best of all possible worlds, and I almost believe he is sincere."


	14. The Same Mistake

Aeryn finds John standing guard at the entrance to the docking bay. When she tries to step past him, he takes her by the shoulders.

"Let me pass. You said there 's something in Bialar's prowler I needed to see, and I am here to see it." She stares straight ahead, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Aeryn."

When he says her name that way, he manifests a Pilot-like ability to imbue each syllable with enough meaning to fill a datachip. She used to love hearing her own name from his lips. Now that he no longer trusts her, the sound is like being struck anew with the knowledge that he isn't her John and doesn't want to be with her.

She forces herself to look him in the eye, knowing he won't say anymore until she has. "What?"

"I don't know what happened between you and Crais on Talyn, and it's not any of my business. I just know you look at the guy who flew here in that prowler, and you want to believe he's the hero from the command carrier."

"You're right." She knocks his arms aside and takes a step back. "You _don't_ know what went on between Crais and me on Talyn. You didn't see the terrible way I treated him after you-- after _John_ died. So whatever I see in there, I'm not going to make the same mistake and assume he's using us for his own ends."

She manages to take two strides before John catches her elbow. "Yeah, just-- Aeryn, if it turns out he's not who you think, I'm here for you."

"Fine."

She breaks free from him and enters the docking bay, where Chiana sits in front of the prowler, next to the prone form of a naked young man. The Nebari has her arms wrapped around her knees, and when she looks up at Aeryn, her eyes glisten with moisture. One of Moya's DRD's sits next to her, its antenni drooping in sympathy.

"Is he dead?" Aeryn looks from the man to Chiana and back.

"Yeah. I found 'im wadded up like dirty laundry and shoved under a floor panel in Crais's prowler. He just looks so alive until you touch him, and then he's cold. He's barely more than a kid, you know? And Crais probably killed him."

"We don't know that," Aeryn snaps, her eyes glued to the man whose face almost matches one from her memory. She kneels beside the body and feels for breath, then a pulse. Finding no sign of life, she lifts one of his eyelids. "Strange. His eyes aren't dilated. Could he be in some sort of suspended animation?"

"Might explain why he's not decomposing." John shrugs. "What else, Aeryn? What is it you're not saying?"

"He looks like someone I knew, one of the other prowler pilots, only much younger."

John sits down next to Chiana. "Anyone Crais would have a grudge against?"

"No, and anyway, he's far too young to be the man I remember. Tauvo Crais was a few years older than I am."

"Tauvo, as in Bialar's baby brother?" John runs a hand through his hair. "If it's not godlike aliens, it's dead guys doin' the time warp dance. On days like these, I almost wish I'd taken the blue pill and stayed outta the rabbit hole."

Aeryn looks at Chiana. "Did that make any sense to you?"

Chiana shakes her head. "Hey, you don't know how much I hate to say this, but maybe Sikozu would know something."

"Probably right," John agrees. "And I guess we should keep the captain in loop."

"No!" Aeryn reaches across the man's body and seizes John's wrist before he can reach for his comm. "D'Argo will over react." She taps her own comm. "Sikozu, we need your help. We're here in the docking bay."

_I'll be there._

John twists his hand until he is holding Aeryn's and then squeezes. "Good call."

She yanks her hand away without responding. The silence is only broken when Sikozu enters.

"What's this?" Sikozu raises an eyebrow as she scans the lifeless body.

"We were hoping you could tell us," John replies.

Chiana chuckles. "That's all you can say? This poor kid's dead, and you look at him like you've just found a new game to play."

Sikozu kneels next to Aeryn. "Curiosity, by which I do _not_ mean the compulsion to frell anything that moves, is not a crime, Chiana. Someone on Moya has to think analytically." She runs a finger over the burn scar on the young man's chest. "Do any of you have a knife? No, better yet, DRD!" She looks at the droid and utters a string of syllables that must be Pilot's language.

The DRD rolls up to the body and extends an arm with a small blade at the end.

"Just the part that's already damaged," Sikozu tells the DRD.

After blinking once, the machine plunges its blade into the ruined skin, which oozes a thin layer of blood.

"What the hell?" John demands. "DRD, stop it!"

The droid complies, retracting the now-red blade so that it hovers above the incision.

Aeryn inhales through her nose, puzzled. "There's no smell."

"Exactly!" Sikozu nods to Aeryn and shakes her head at John. "Look, the burn scar isn't discolored. If he were a real Sebaccean, it would be. If he is what I think he is, he won't mind what I'm doing." She speaks another line of Pilot to the DRD, which resumes cutting.

"His eyes aren't dilated. We think he could be in some kind of stasis..." John trails off, looking slightly ill as the DRD removes the plug of flesh.

Sikozu leans close to peer into the resulting hole and grins. "Here, look! I was right. He's a bioloid."

John, Aeryn, and Chiana all bend forward to look at what appears to be a metal pipe, rather than the expected bone.

"Artificial biomechanoid life form," John mutters. "So, this guy's, what, a robot? Basically a suped-up DRD?"

Sikozu nods. "Only a very simplistic mind would equate the two, but if it helps you grasp the concept,then yes, he's a sophisticated droid. The blood is only there for verisimilitude, by the way. I haven't actually caused him to leak any critical fluids. "

Chiana laughs and slaps her thigh. "And here I was feeling sorry for him!"

Aeryn reaches out to touch the bioloid's skin, fascinated with how real it feels. "This explains Bialar's connection to the Kalish woman, the bioloid programmer. He had her make this, or he was transporting it for her."

"And I always thought he had a thing for you, Aeryn!" John grins. "Now I find out he's got a boy-droid hidden under his floor board."

"What you're implying makes no sense! No one would go to the trouble and expense of making a bioloid for such mundane reasons." Sikozu frowns. "The Kalish scientists at that research facility must be the ones manufacturing the Scarran bioloid spies. They've been using them for cycles now. Was there anything else on the prowler, any information?"

"I went back in and looked, but there was just this." Chiana reaches down the front of her blouse and pulls out a data chip, which she hands to Sikozu.

"What do you mean by spies?" Aeryn asks, dreading the answer.

Sikozu stares at the chip in her hand, eyes alight with curiosity. "Intelligence units. They replace someone with a passable likeness, programmed to act like the original. Speech, mannerisms, basic knowledge, it all gets programmed in."

Aeryn glances at John to find him already staring at her. When she stands up, he moves to block her path and takes her by the arms. "Aeryn, I know what you're thinking."

"Then you know that _thing_ is probably calling all Scarran dreadnoughts in the Uncharted Territories down on our heads right now." She tries to break away, but he strengthens his grip.

"Hold on here. Chiana was ready accuse Crais of murder and you said you'd give him a chance to explain. Turned out you were right. What happened to not making assumptions?"

"That's when I thought he was Bialar. That thing used us, used _me,_ John! I wanted so badly to believe he was alive that I didn't ask questions when I should have." She looks over her shoulder, hoping for support. "Chiana, Sikozu, you know I'm right! We have to destroy that thing."

"You're saying Crais is one of these?" Chiana points to the bioloid. "I don't buy it. He just seems too real."

"They're programmed to seem real." Sikozu sighs and shakes her head. "That doesn't matter. What does is the fact that we have _data_ we have not yet analyzed." She holds up the chip and shakes it in the air for emphasis. "I can use the console in the prowler."

"Fine, read the chip and then I'll kill the bioloid. Go, go on!" Aeryn looks at Sikozu and jerks her head toward the open door of the prowler. John still holds both her arms in a grip that will make it difficult to get away without hurting him. She meets his eyes, glaring. "Well, I agreed to let her read the frelling chip. Why are you still holding onto me?"

"Look, not a day goes by that I don't think about what's been done in the name of wormholes, what's been lost because of what's in my head. I don't trust Crais. Hell, I don't like Crais, but when I think about what he did for all of us, I wish I had some way to pay him back.

"So right now, Aeryn, right now, I'm doing what I should have done the day I flipped that stupid coin. I'm making sure you don't do something I'll regret."


	15. If It Looks Like a Duck

"This is strange!" Sikozu shouts from inside the prowler.

John drops one of Aeryn's arms and drags her into the prowler by the other. He positions himself between her and the door and stands with his arms folded, looking at the array of gibberish on the console screen.

Chiana wedges herself between John and Aeryn. "What's strange?"

Sikozu points to the symbols on the screen, frowing. "This! It's the content from the datachip. I think it's bioloid code, which I don't know how to read well--"

John holds up a hand. "Whoa! I thought languages were your mutant power."

"Yes, well, my ability extends to all _aural_ languages, not programming languages. I can't read each individual command, but I do recognize patterns, and this looks like Leviathan neural structure."

Aeryn has a brief fantasy about finding out whether or not Sikozu can reattach her head. Instead of acting on her base impulses, she nudges Chiana with an elbow. "Is she making any more sense than Crichton usually does?"

"Not to me!" Chiana shrugs.

John bends down for a closer look at the screen. "So you're saying it's like someone wrote a program in Leviathan and then recompiled it in bioloid."

Sikozu shakes her head. "Of course not. No one uses Leviathan patterns as a programming language. They're too organic. They're inefficient. Look at this! It's a mess! Worse, it's flawed. There are infinite loops, calls to randomization algorithms, and processes that trigger for no apparent reason. Even if I could read all the commands, I doubt it would make any sense."

"Sounds like D.K.'s C++ homework!" John chuckles at his own nonsensical quip. "Ok, so best guess? What is it we're looking at?"

"I don't know!" Sikozu throws up her hands.

"It's Leviathan patterns, right?" Chiana asks. Without waiting for an answer, she continues, "Why not ask Moya and Pilot?"

"That--" Sikozu takes a deep breath and makes a face like she just tasted something foul. "-- is actually a reasonable suggestion."

"Good, then." Aeryn nods approval. "Chiana, you take the chip to Pilot. Sikozu, DRD, let's go find out if we have another bioloid on board."

"I'll comm you with what I find out." Chiana snatches the datachip from the console and darts out the door of the prowler.

"What are we going to do? Dig down to his skeleton?" John shakes his head. "Not an option. There's gotta be an easier way to tell."

"Is there?" Aeryn looks at Sikozu and feels a rush of relief when she responds with a hesitant nod.

"Yes. With a small skin sample and some of the scientific instruments we have, I should be able to compare him to a normal Sebaccean. I'll go set up what I need there so I'll be ready when you bring the samples." Sikozu walks out, leaving Aeryn alone with John.

Aeryn leaves the prowler and heads for the door of the docking bay, John keeping pace with her. She shoots him a brief glance. "If he doesn't cooperate..."

"He doesn't have to. Between the two of us, we can get Sikozu what she needs without too much trouble. But we ask first."

"Agreed. Frell, I hope I'm wrong. I want it to be him." She struggles to keep her voice steady.

"Why are you so sure he's not the real Crais? You were the one rolling out the red carpet for him, now you're leading the torch-and-pitchfork brigade. So, why?"

She looks straight ahead and speaks quickly, wanting to get it out and be done. "Because every time I've wanted something this badly it's turned into a load of dren. Zaahn,Velorek, Xalax, John, Talyn, Bialar. Everyone from my old unit. I care about someone, they die."

"You've still got Rygel!"

She smiles, more from relief that he's stopped his prodding than from amusement.

As they approach Bialar's cell, 1812 scoots up to greet them. Aeryn feels a surge of affection for the painted droid, with its wheels, antenni, and rounded body. That's how a machine should look, even if it does have a sophisticated brain. You should be able to tell it's a machine.

The first voice to greet them from inside the cell is not the one she expected.

"John, Aeryn!" Scorpius calls.

After taking in the sight of the open cell door and that of Scorpius, face down on the floor, wrists tied to his ankles with Bialar's shirt, Aeryn and John exchange a look of confusion before fixing their eyes on Crais, who stands next to the immobilized half-breed.

"If you were Bialar, he'd be dead," Aeryn growls.

"He saved his own life by telling me he had saved yours."

Aeryn searches his face as she replays those words in her mind. The words, and the implied sentiment behind them, ring true. How could anyone know him well enough to put those words in his mouth? She bites her lip to distract herself from the pain of almost believing.

"Not the first time Scorpy's played that card," John mutters. "The question is, how did he know you were here and why is he out of his cell?"

"As to the first--" Scorpius begins.

"Never mind that. We're not here to question Scorpius." Aeryn steps into the cell and over Scorpius.

Bialar's eyes widen slightly as he studies her face, not appearing to like what he sees there. "Chiana found 355, I take it."

Aeryn opens her mouth to reply, but Pilot's voice comes over the comm before she can answer.

_Moya is... overwhelmed by the data chip. She has asked me to express her thanks to Crais, and she asks that he no longer be confined while on board. _

"Pilot, what was on that chip?" John asks.

_She says it is an image of Talyn's data spools. _

"Flawed Leviathan patterns with infinite loops, randomization, and processes that trigger for no apparent reason-- Talyn!" John claps his hands together. "Sounds like Moya and Sikozu agree."

Bialar wears a sad half-smile. "Pilot, tell Moya I am glad the chip has brought her comfort, and I am grateful for her trust."

_I will tell her. And you have my thanks as well. It pleases me to see Moya at peace. _

"Talyn's data spools?" Aeryn repeats. "They gave you Talyn's data so you could earn Moya's trust?"

"I'm happy for Moya too, but let's talk about the boy-droid, Bialar." John enters the cell and leans against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

"Keeping this from you was an error in judgment." Bialar sits down on the end of the bunk and looks from Aeryn to John. "The bioloid and the datachip are two parts of the same whole. I agreed to the Scarrans' request to spy on you, but not for the reason you assumed. I asked for Talyn's consciousness to be transferred to a bioloid body in exchange for my cooperation." He meets Aeryn's eyes. "I had every intention of betraying the Scarrans as soon as I could."

"That guy from the prowler, that was Talyn?" John shakes his head. "So, he's 355, that makes you--"

"Bioloid 354, or Bialar Crais, depending on whom you ask. Gemmi was unable to convince many of her colleagues. When Talyn's erratic behavior proved a problem, she was taken for assessment and 355 was deactivated. I was able to escape with the help of one of Talyn's friends, the daughter of a Scarran security officer."

John looks at Aeryn. "What do you make of this?"

"The Scarran angel," Aeryn mutters. "His story fits with what he told me on the clamshell. He said he was alive because of a Kalish goddess and a Scarran angel."

"Ok, so you need Gemmina to fix Talyn. Why not be straight with us from the get-go?" John asks.

"Because I know Aeryn Sun." Bialar glances briefly at John and then locks eyes with her. "In the short time we were both linked with Talyn, I saw how your mind works. I know how fiercely you become attached to those you care about. Later, I.. experienced your reaction when I reminded you that this John was here on Moya, waiting for your return."

"He did that?" John's voice is strained with incredulity.

Aeryn nods. "I reacted badly." She moves closer to Bialar and reaches out to touch the face that looks like the one she remembers striking.

John chuckles. "I'd say he's got you pegged Aeryn. Look, bioloid or not, if it looks like a duck, and it walks like a duck, and it quacks like a duck..."

"All that is quite beside the point!" John, Aeryn, and Bialar all turn to look at Scorpius. "If the Scarrans have data from the command carrier, that means they have all of my wormhole research."

"And a crack team of Kalish mad scientists ready to roll the dice and play god with the universe." John runs a hand through his hair. "Not good."

"Might we all agree that our interests are aligned?" Scorpius cranes his neck and looks up at them with an ingratiating smile.

Aeryn kneels beside him, pulls a knife from her pocket, and cuts through the shirt. "Just don't kill anyone until we all agree it's part of the plan."

"That goes for you, too, Aeryn," John tells her.

"Fine." She stands up and looks at Bialar, willing her eyes not to tear up. "You're not the man that I remember, any more than that datachip is Talyn. But I do believe you're what's left of him, and I'm glad you're here." She pivots and walks out of the cell.

As she moves down the hallway, she hears Bialar call her name and John answer, "Just let her be. Let's give her break from the monkey's paw stuff."


	16. On the Same Team

"What makes you so sure the Scarrans have the wormhole data?" Crichton looks from Scorpius to Bialar.

"Gemmi indicated that several data spools from the command carrier itself were recovered. Assuming that the wormhole research is not on them would be wishful thinking." Bialar eyes Scorpius with a mixture of contempt and revulsion. "All your efforts to monopolize Crichton's knowledge have accomplished nothing, save advancing Scarran military intelligence."

Scorpius smiles. "And your efforts to stop me accomplished the destruction of a rogue gunship. I am sure your contribution to the Peacekeepers is appreciated."

Crichton raises both hands and taps his own shoulders. "Whoa, twenty second time out here, guys. We're all on the same team. Ok, so they know whatever Scorpy knew, but do they know what they've got?"

"I was not privy to any information regarding wormhole technology recovered from the command carrier," Bialar replies. "All I know is that they consider your capture to be a matter of high importance."

He fights back a maddening wave of frustration. It would have been so simple if he could have purchased a stasis pod, knocked Crichton into it, and made the exchange for Gemmi and Jayza. With Talyn repaired and Gemmi safely in Bialar's possession, he could have let the Scarrans have the universe. Scarrarns are no worse than Peacekeepers or Nebari, and Bialar has had his fill of heroism. As Scorpius so cruelly pointed out, all his sacrifice accomplished was the loss of Talyn.

He looks at Crichton's face and remembers seeing the man through Aeryn's eyes when they were both linked with Talyn. If he gives Crichton to the Scarrans, he'll be handing them a piece of Aeryn's heart, and that is not something he can do. Talyn, Gemmi, Aeryn, Crichton-- the chains he has chosen are beginning to feel as heavy as the Peacekeeper chain of command.

"Recovery of the command carrier data spools is imperative!" Scorpius pounds his palm with his fist. "It is only a matter of time before they realize the implications of the information they have."

"Gemmina has the pass codes for all storage areas in the research facility," Bialar offers. He has no idea whether or not what he just said is true but hopes his words sound plausible enough to convince the others.

Crichton shakes his head. "That doesn't help us. Breaking in to get her would be just as hard as getting in to blow up the data spools."

"Not necessarily. Gemmi was taken to a Kalish medical facility for assessment. According to my Scarran contact, she was still being held there over a monen after I left. That place has little Scarran military presence." Bialar regrets his words as he watches Crichton and Scorpius exchange a glance. Of course any suggestion coming directly from an admitted Scarran bioloid will be viewed as a trap. He silently curses himself for not taking more effort to lead one of them into suggesting that they free Gemmina.

To Bialar's surprise, Crichton doesn't argue but instead taps his comm. "Sikozu?"

_Yes? I have everything set up and ready for the samples. _

"Forget the samples. He confessed. I've got a bigger favor to ask of you. You think you could get into a Kalish medical facility and bring someone out with you?" Crichton asks, watching Bialar carefully as if gauging his reaction.

_How could I possibly answer such a vague, poorly-posed question? What exactly is it you're wanting me to do?_

Bialar answers for him. "Sikozu, _I_ am asking you to help free two Kalish scholars who are being held for having failed the Scarrans."

_Don't attempt to play on my patriotism, bioloid. I won't agree to something without knowing the risks involved. _

"I told you she wouldn't know how to do it!" Crichton winks and grins.

For a moment, Bialar is puzzled. When he recognizes Crichton's strategy, he replies, "I admit I probably over-estimated her intelligence."

_You can't honestly believe such a transparent tactic would persuade me. Again, I need to know details before I can promise anything. _

"They have no right to ask this of you, Sikozu." Scorpius's voice sounds soft and serious, with no trace of his usual irony or venom.

Sikozu heaves a sigh loud enough to be heard over the comm. _Alright! If you've managed to convince Scorpius, I agree to help with your plan. _

Crichton taps his comm again, ending the conversation.

"If _anything _happens to her..." Scorpius growls, glaring from Crichton to Bialar.

"You'll make another unsuccessful attempt to assassinate me?" Bialar studies the half-breed's face, astonished by the apparent sincerity he sees there.

When he looks at Crichton, the human chuckles and shrugs. "Yeah, I know, it's weird. Guess there's someone our there for everyone. And, Scorpy? I'm going with her, so no worries." 

"Impossible!" Scorpius hisses. "How can you trust the bioloid _or _the man he claims to be, let alone his 'Scarran contact'?"

"I don't," Crichton replies. "But I figure if it were a trap, he wouldn't have helped me talk Sikozu into going. He would have argued that I had to be the one to go."

"Dubious logic at best, John," Scorpius argues.

Crichton shrugs. "If you've got a better plan, I'd love to hear it!"

Scorpius shakes his head.

Bialar smiles. Everything is falling into place more elegantly than he could have hoped.


	17. Standard Procedure

"She traded my prowler for this... toy?" Bialar watches with disgust as Sikozu exits the cockpit of a small, unarmed vessel, carrying a bag over her shoulder. He should never have let her go alone to the Kalish commerce station.

Crichton laughs and claps him on the back. "Goes with your new look, bro."

Bialar scowls at Sikozu and her ship, preferring the site of them to that of Crichton with his newly-orange hair and peppering of iridescent scales. According to Noranti, the change in Crichton is temporary and will disappear as his cells replenish themselves. For Bialar's synthetic skin and hair, the corresponding alterations are permanent. Through the bizarre string of events following his death, he has become the embodiment of a Peacekeeper cautionary tale; his association with Gemmi has lead to his becoming literally, physically, irreversibly contaminated.

Sikozu's eyes widen as she approaches the men. She moves close to Crichton, standing on her toes to bring her face up to his, then does the same with Bialar. "Amazing! The old woman does have an impressive, if erratic, level of competence."

He bites back a caustic response, choosing to focus on the mission rather than his own disfigurement. "Were you able to obtain identity chips and have us placed in the database?"

"With the credits I had left after trading the prowler for the transport I was only able to obtain false identities for the two of us. I had to find a creative solution to the human problem." She reaches into the bag and hands Bialar a datachip, then pulls out a collar like the one he pulled from Gemmi's neck.

"You cannot be serious! He'll be useless to us." Bialar snatches it from her hand.

"If that's one of those Peacekeeper zombie collars, he's right." Crichton crosses his arms over his chest. "That's not helping our cause."

"It's _Kalish_ technology," Sikozu corrects. "The effects won't be permanent, and it's easier than teaching you to speak Kalish. You'll be a violent, confused vagrant being brought for assessment by Dr. Caleen Ridian, that's him, and Junior Technician Mari Hesilia-- that's me. The story explains why you have no datachip and can't be matched to the records."

"I had not considered the language problem," Bialar admits. "I don't speak Kalish either."

Sikozu tilts her head and frowns at him. "You did just now. You always do, when speaking to me. It's a brilliant adaptation, really. I can only guess, but I think Gemmina took the neural pattern left by the translator microbes and improved upon it. She is a formidable scholar. I can see why you're attached to her."

Bialar mentally replays his own words and realizes Sikozu is correct. His conscious mind reaches for a meaning, and some hidden process supplies a word. According to Gemmi, bioloids are immune to pain with no physical cause, but thinking about the minutia of his own neural processes makes his head throb all the same. He wonders what other alterations she made, then decides he doesn't want to know. Whether shaped by the vagaries of fortune or the meddling mind of a self-deified goddess, he is still his own man in the end, capable of making his own choices.

He closes both fists around the collar and bends it until he hears something inside it snap. "It's deactivated now." He hands the device to Crichton. "Can you play the part?"

"One drooling idiot, coming up." Crichton fastens the device around his own neck and lets his face go slack.

The man looks foolish with his mouth hanging open, but his eyes still move in a systematic sweep, assessing Bialar as a potential threat, admiring Sikozu, and watching the entrance to the docking bay.

Bialar shakes his head. "Unconvincing. Anyone who looks at you can see you are still aware of your surroundings."

"It's close enough. People will see what they expect to, and they expect him to be incapacitated when they see the collar," Sikozu explains. She turns toward the Kalish transport and looks over her shoulder at the men. "Well, are we going?"

"Yeah." Crichton eyes the docking bay door wistfully, probably half-wishing Chiana broke her promise not tell Aeryn about the plan until after they had left.

Bialar follows Sikozu into the vessel, Crichton trailing behind, and then slides into the right seat of the cockpit. The instrument display consists of a single panel with overlapping charts, and though he is able to read the individual numbers and symbols, he makes no sense of them. Sikozu places one small hand on the panel, and the door of the ship closes. With a minute twitch of her fingers, she starts the engines, and the docking bay door opens.

"There's no way either of us is going to be able to fly this thing, is there?" Crichton asks. He stands behind the pilot's seat and frowns at the instrument panel.

Another small hand movement takes them away from Moya. "Bialar could be taught with a purchased upgrade. You? Perhaps after years of training. Kalish engineers value the efficiency with which a task can be performed over the ease with which it can be learned. Not like Sebacceans, who bring everything to the lowest level of the lowest man."

"Yeah, well, what happens if the lowest man is the last one standing?" Crichton mutters.

"We will just have to make sure all of us are still standing," Sikozu replies.

Bialar suffers another pang of nostalgia for the prowler and vows to rid himself of this insane contraption once the mission is complete. He shouldn't need an extra chip in his head to pilot a vehicle. There should be buttons and levers and neatly compartmentalized displays with labels anyone can understand. Most importantly, there should be sufficient weapons to deter at least casual attackers.

Two arns later, they arrive at the medical station, a set of four half-metra wide spheres interconnected by rectangular walkways. The entire facility is anchored to a small, misshapen moon orbiting a glowing gas planet. According to Veena's transmissions, the research station is two moons away on the other side of the planet.

Sikozu's fingers flutter on the console, and she speaks into the ship's comm. "This is Junior Technician Mari Hesilia arriving with patient number 1763-908."

A bored-sounding man replies, _Been expecting him. Go ahead and dock and I'll take you down to the assessment holding cells. _

"Excellent." Sikozu flicks her wrist, presumably ending the transmission, then guides the ship into the docking bay of the medical station. She reaches into her bag again and hands Bialar a weapon. "It's only a stun pistol."

He takes it from her and feels a sense of relief that comes with being armed. He uses his free hand to grip Crichton's arm and squeezes harder when the man tries to shake him off. "You are supposed to be incapacitated. You will have to be lead."

"Yeah, but according to you I'm not supposed to watch where I'm going. And I trust her more than you when it comes to making sure I don't trip." He flashes a smile at Sikozu before putting on a vacant expression.

Bialar shrugs and releases Crichton. The vessel's door opens, and the three of them emerge into a sterile white space filled with neat rows of transport vehicles like theirs. Crichton shuffles forward mechanically, only stopping when Sikozu tugs on his arm to halt him.

A squat Kalish man with drooping eyelids and and a bulbous nose waddles toward them, carrying some sort of instrument in his hand. When he reaches Crichton, he holds up the device and glances at Bialar. "Just making sure the collar's working. Standard procedure."

"I'm sure it's fine..." Sikozu begins, even as the a light on the device begins to flash.

"No. Turns out it's broken." The man releases the collar and drops it in his pocket. "Lucky for you he's still out from the residual."

"The collar was on for over twelve arns," Bialar explains.

The man laughs. "Twelve arns? Frell, he doesn't even need to be wearing one anymore! But it is standard procedure, so..." He reaches into another pocket and pulls out a new collar.

Sikozu seizes the man's wrist and starts to argue with him, but Bialar knowns a lost cause when he sees one. Apparently, Crichton does as well. As Crichton closes his fist around the new collar, Bialar raises his stun weapon and fires, hitting the Kalish man in the head.

The man crumples to the floor. Crichton reels and falls to his knees with his hands on his thighs, gasping for breath.

Sikozu picks up the collar and snaps it around the Kalish man's neck, then glares at Bialar. "That was foolish!"

"And painful," Crichton agrees. "Next time you're going to zap somebody, warn me so I'm not part of the damn circuit!"

"I could have reasoned with him!" Sikozu shakes her head in disgust. "We have no choice but to abort the mission now."

"You can't reason with 'standard procedure,'" Bialar explains. Under any other circumstances, he would be amused at her naiveté. "And it would be ludicrous to abort the mission due to one small aberration. We simply take his identity chip and proceed on our own."

Crichton nods and rises to his feet. "Help me get him into one of those transports. Preferably not ours. We'll be taking home enough strays from this pound as it is."


	18. Complete Chaos

Sikozu uses an external touch panel to open one of the vehicles while Bialar and Crichton strip the unconscious man of his smock and identity chip. The loose garment fits easily over Bialar's clothing. In a facility this large, he may be able to pass for an employee without arousing suspicion. Before putting him in the vehicle, Bialar removes the collar and pockets it, then shoots the man again with the stun weapon.

Crichton shakes his head in disgust. "You could've just left the collar on." He slams the door of the vehicle closed.

"And condemned him to the equivalent of Sebaccean heat delirium? Not even a Peacekeeper would do that. The effects of the stun weapon will wear off." Bialar hands him the broken collar.

Crichton fingers the collar and looks at Sikozu. "You said the effects weren't permanent."

"And they wouldn't have been! We would have removed the collar after we got back to the transport. The effect only becomes permanent if the device is left on too long."

"So what's too long?" Crichton snaps the disabled collar around his own neck.

Sikozu shrugs. "Eight arns for Kalish, maybe four for Sebacceans. What does it matter?"

"I'm not Sebaccean _or _Kalish. What about humans? What about me?"

"Your physiology is similar to a Sebaccean's, so hypothetically, we could rely on your responses being roughly analogous--"

Crichton cuts her off with a harsh laugh. "Great! Your plan was to make me a walking science experiment." He glances at Bialar. "Thanks for watching my back."

Bialar nods acknowledgment and takes Crichton's arm as they exit the docking bay. Perhaps the simple act of snapping Sikozu's collar has accomplished what sacrificing his own life could not; maybe he has finally earned a measure of Crichton's trust.

They move through a hallway with transparent walls, past room after room of Kalish workers using consoles or standing in front of display screens debating over charts and data. Crichton lets himself be lead, shuffling forward with his shoulders slumped and his eyes unfocused, and Bialar makes a mental note to praise the man for his theatrics. Sikozu, in contrast, plays her role poorly. Her head snaps back and forth as she assesses the contents of each room they pass, her frown deepening into an expression of near panic.

She leans close to Bialar and whispers, "I need access to a console so I can find out where Gemmina and Jayza are being held, but I don't see any empty rooms. We can't reasonably expect to search the entire place without being caught."

She is probably correct, especially given her inability to behave like someone who belongs here. He sighs. "What would you suggest?"

"Gotta roll the dice sometimes," Crichton mutters, barely moving his mouth.

Gemmi may have improved upon the neural pattern left by the translator microbes, but despite her efforts, Bialar still finds Crichton unintelligible half the time. "Roll what?"

Crichton glances around to make sure no one is paying attention, then says, "Take a chance. Ask someone where it is you're supposed to take the drooling idiot."

"We don't want to call attention--" Sikozu begins.

Bialar ignores her and enters one of the rooms where a harried looking Kalish woman is working at a console, her fingers flying over the keypad, her lips compressed into a tight line of concentration. As he strides toward her work station, he thinks back to his youth, when he had to charm women instead of impressing them with his rank. Smiling, he leans on her console.

She glances up at him, not pausing in her work. "Yes?"

"I have a patient being brought for assessment. Could you direct me to the holding area?"

She looks up from the screen and lets her hands fall into her lap. "I can take your patient. It's supposed to be Mardin's job, but I'll handle _him_ later."

"I couldn't ask that of someone so busy." Bialar flashes another smile. "If you would just tell me where to go, I would be happy to--"

"No, the Scarran guards won't let you through."

He makes no attempt to hide his surprise. "Scarrans? Why? This is a medical facility. Has their paranoia grown to the point where they think we're plotting against them here?"

She looks around before answering in a near whisper, "It's those two women from the research station. Director Kidan had them both sent here, but then he gets an order from the Scarrans that they need them alive. So Kidan, he gets scared and posts a guard on the whole wing. I'm guessing if anything else happens to those women, it'll be his memorial."

"Anything else?" Bialar repeats.

The woman grins, obviously relishing the opportunity to spout gossip into a new ear. "I heard that by the time Kidan got the order to keep them alive, they'd already started on the one. Heard they're keeping her in a stasis pod. The other one--" Her smile fades and she shakes her head, grimacing. "If you ask me, it's Kidan who needs assessment. He's ordered experiments on that girl that we only do on traitors. The _Scarrans_ made him stop."

_Scarrans, Kalish, doesn't matter. My friends are the ones who call me 'Talyn'. _Bialar remembers Talyn's simple sentiment, and his resolve deepens even as a new goal takes shape. No longer content with retrieving Gemmi and Jayza, he vows to himself that Kidan will meet an appropriate end.

When the red haze clears from his eyes, he forces himself to look at the woman, hoping his desperation can be passed off as idle curiosity. "So, the other girl... has she been placed in a stasis pod as well?"

"No, she's still being held in a cell. If she were in a pod, they wouldn't need the guards." The woman stands up.

He walks with her into the hallway, where Sikozu stands with Crichton. "I've found someone to take our patient to the assessment holding cells."

Sikozu's eyes widen, but Crichton catches Bialar's eye and gives an almost imperceptible nod.

Bialar winces, wondering what the man is planning, or worse, what he'll spontaneously decide to do. Facing Sikozu, he says, "We can't take him ourselves because of the tight security. They've posted Scarran guards. Not that they have anything to worry about from this fellow-- he can't pull any of his usual farbot schemes while he's collared." He has no doubt Crichton recognizes his warning, but is equally certain that it will be ignored.

Sikozu nods and watches the woman escort Crichton away, then darts to the woman's console and begins pressing buttons. "I've found where the assessment level is. She must be a senior administrator! She has access to virtually everything."

Bialar follows her into the room, closes the door behind him, and moves to stand behind her. He looks over her shoulder at the map on the screen. "Very good. Now find where they keep their stasis pods."

"Why do we need a stasis pod?"

"Because either Gemmi or Jayza is being kept in one." Saying the words out loud is almost physically painful.

"You do realize that usually means--"

"I know what it means!" He kicks the base of the console station, shattering the brittle polymer cover and bringing a jolt of pain he doesn't bother ignoring. "It means saving Gemmi may be more difficult than I had imagined."

Sikozu looks over her shoulder at him and her expression softens into one of sympathy. "It means it may be impossible to save her. I'm sorry."

"What she did for me and for Talyn was impossible and that didn't stop her."

"She didn't do it for you, not as a personal favor. She's a scholar. You were her project. That doesn't mean you owe her this kind of loyalty." Sikozu sighs. "What she did was brilliant, but it can be duplicated with enough time and effort. I may even be able to fix Talyn."

Bialar stands and walks to the doorway, then pivots to face her. "Yes, I was her project, as Talyn was mine. Even if you manage to duplicate her results, I doubt you will ever understand the depth of that bond. She risked everything by allowing Talyn's continued existence and by her association with me."

"Then for your sake, I hope it's not Gemmina in the stasis pod, which, by the way, is on level seventeen of sphere two. The question is whether or not you trust Crichton to escape from the assessment cells with the prisoner." She smiles, her eyes fixed on the screen in front of her.

He feels a surge of irritation with her for grinning like she's just won a game. "From the way you're smirking, I take it you have a possible solution."

"Yes, actually. I'll go get the stasis pod and load it on the transport. They're not expecting anyone to be insane enough to rescue it, so it isn't guarded. You'll have a tenth arn to get to the assessment holding cells, where there will be complete chaos. There's a second docking bay in sphere three, deck five, two floors above assessment. I'll be waiting with the transport. I'm setting a timed release on all cell doors... now!"

"Thank you." Bialar nods to her and begins making his way toward the assessment cells.

His mind is churning with so many uncertainties. Will he and Crichton be able to evade the Scarran guards? Which technician will run with him from the holding cells? The converse of that question is even more disturbing. Though he wishes no harm on Jayza, the thought of seeing Gemmi through the window of a stasis pod is too painful to contemplate, so he pushes it from his mind. Gemmi may hate him for abandoning her here, may even refuse to come with him to Moya, but he can tolerate that. He would rather drag her onto the transport by force than roll her in a pod. Better to endure the burning rage of her curses than to sit in frozen silence.

At least one thing is certain. Sikozu has given him an unexpected advantage. Given his Peacekeeper training, "complete chaos" is something he knows how to exploit.


	19. Sending Vengeance Through His Veins

As Bialar approaches the assessment holding cells, the lights flicker and die. The hum of the environmental system vanishes as well, leaving an eerie, palpable silence that persists for mere microts before a chorus of shouting explodes from the chamber at the end of the hallway. Gambling that no one is in his way, Bialar runs toward the source of the noise. Halfway there, the air vents resume operation with a rattling sigh, and a strip of dim backup lights flashes on, revealing an armed Scarran guard running toward him.

The Scarran seizes his arm and appears surprised when Bialar has the strength to halt his momentum, pulling the Scarran to a full stop instead of being dragged along with him. "You don't want to go in there! The holding cells are open. It's--"

"Complete chaos?" Improvising, Bialar pulls the stun weapon from his pocket and waves it in the air. "I'm equipped to handle it. I was sent to investigate."

"Tren and Ceri are equipped too, and I'm not sure they'll make it!" The guard shakes his head. "Do what you want. I'm going for help."

Bialar fires his stun weapon in the Scarran's face. The jolt would be enough to disable a Sebaccean or Kalish for arns, but the Scarran is merely startled, as if someone has just thrown a bucket of water on his head. Taking a lesson from Talyn, Bialar throws two hard punches and the guard collapses into an unconscious heap. Even having expected this result, the sight of a Scarran lying still, felled by Bialar's own fist, is surreal. Had he known of the advantages and possibilities, he would have become a bioloid cycles ago.

As he closes the remaining distance to the holding cells, he wonders if the guard was a friend of Veena's. He dismisses the thought from his mind, furious at his own growing weakness. The Scarran will recover, and any other collateral damage that occurs this solar day will be an acceptable loss. Conviction without resolve is merely an impotent intellectual construct. The universal love professed by priests and philosophers is diluted to nonexistence, and believing in such a tenet would leave him paralyzed, held in place by innumerable chains, all pulling in different directions. His love for Talyn and for Gemmi is made strong only by his willingness to fight for it.

He pulls the door open, and a Scarran stumbles backwards, pushed by a fat Kalish man who blinks in astonishment at the bleeding hole in his abdomen left by the Scarran's pulse rifle. As the wounded man falls forward, Bialar seizes the Scarran's weapon and holds it close to his body with one hand. He uses his free hand to fire the stun weapon into the crowd of swarming prisoners, hoping to clear a path.

Some scatter back into the cells, but others surge past him, stepping over the body of the other Scarran guard. Bialar plows forward, ignoring several attacks from Kalish who probably believe him to be a member of the facility staff. He feels a painful jab in his thigh and looks down to see a protruding syringe.

"Who will have nightmares now?" a Kalish woman asks, laughing.

"Yo! Bialar!" Crichton's voice comes from the far end of the wing.

Making generous use of his stun weapon, Bialar jogs through the thinning crowd. Most of the prisoners are either heading for the door or wandering aimlessly, too far gone to grasp the concept of escape. None of the faces he has seen so far belong to Gemmi or Jayza, and he wonders if they might both be in stasis pods or worse.

By the time Bialar reaches Crichton, the two of them are alone at the far end of the wing. Cricthon has removed his collar and traded it for a blood-stained smock. The original owner of the garment is probably the Kalish man sprawled on the floor at Crichton's feet, a scalpel protruding from his chest.

Crichton follows Bialar's eyes to the floor and shrugs. "He started it. And once I'd taken him down, I decided it's better not to look like an inmate right now. Where's Sikozu?"

"Two floors up in a second docking bay. Have you seen Gemmi or Jayza?"

"Sort of." He jerks his head toward the cell behind him.

Bialar steps around him and into the cell, where a Kalish woman huddles in the corner, her forehead on her knees, her wrists crossed in front of her ankles. Kneeling beside her, he brushes a tangle of hair away from her face and traces the familiar line of her jaw with the back of his hand. "Gemmi?"

"You sure that's her?" Crichton asks.

"Positive." Bialar tries to turn her face toward him, sure that if she meets his eyes, she'll remember him.

Her muscles go rigid as she resists him, tucking her head between her knees.

"Gemmi! Stop this. I believed you were safe here or I would have come for you even before I found Crichton. Blame me if you must, but Talyn needs your help." He takes her by the shoulders and shakes her.

Crichton lays a hand on Bialar's shoulder. "I don't think she's blaming you. I saw her eyes before she hunkered down like that. There's nothing _there._"

"We need to get her out of here." Reluctantly, Bialar holds the stun weapon against Gemmi's side and fires. Her body convulses and then goes slack. Ignoring Crichton's protests, Bialar removes the scalpel from the dead Kalish employee and presses on the flesh until his hands are saturated in blood. He returns to the cell and runs his hands over the front of Gemmi's shirt.

"What the hell kind of sick bastard--" Crichton begins.

Bialar glances up from his work. "No one will question two staff members transporting a wounded woman for emergency treatment. Not if we move while panic is still high." He grips Gemmi's upper arms and drags her into the hallway. "Take her ankles so we both appear occupied."

Crichton complies. "Ok, you're a _smart_ sick bastard."

They make their way through the ward, stepping over fallen equipment as well as a few unconscious bodies. Once outside the ward and in the main hallway, they maneuver around even more fallen Kalish as well as the mangled bodies of the three Scarran guards before reaching the lift. Staff members have begun to arrive, muttering in disbelief at the mess around them. As he had hoped, the Kalish ignore Bialar and Crichton once they catch sight of Gemmi's bloody shirt. They step onto the lift. Before the doors close, he catches a gruesome glimpse of the entire panorama of destruction. Like some pagan primitive, he has paid a tribute of blood in the name of his little Kalish goddess.

He pulls Gemmi away from Crichton and loops one arm under her knees, holding her shoulders with the other. He remembers hearing her voice before he could see or feel or move. Sometimes she would hum sporadically for arns on end, the same eerie, minor melody over and over. Other times, she would prattle on about the Living Consciousness project, making promises to restore him to life, telling him how singular and fascinating he was. _You and I, we're two halves of the most amazing discovery imaginable! I always wanted to make something real, and I wanted to do it without hurting anyone. Sometimes I think when I get everything online, the first think I'll do is kiss you! Well, maybe the first thing I'll do is wipe your memory so you won't remember I said that. Except I won't, because I don't know what all your data is for, and I'm scared I might erase something important. So you'll just have to pretend you forget I said that. Can you remember that? To forget, I mean. _

He brings his lips close to her ear and whispers, "I remember everything, Gemmi, every arn you worked on me. That's why I know you're too stubborn to give up on me now."

"Why is the lift taking so long?" Crichton wonders aloud.

"It opens directly on the docking bay. If a ship just came or left, the door is probably programmed to wait until the atmosphere is reestablished." Bialar and Crichton look at each other and say in unison, "Sikozu!"

The thought of that ridiculous transport has now become appealing, and Bialar realizes he will even be glad to see the abrasive Kalish girl if it means getting away from this place. The lift doors begin to open, and he feels a grin of relief spread across his face.

As the doors open further, he realizes he is staring down the barrel of a pulse rifle. He recognizes the face of the man holding the weapon, though only from a hologram.

The Kalish man raises an eyebrow. "How touching. Bioloid 354 returns for its maker."

Cold rage flashes through Bialar's circuits. His biomechanoid heart throbs with the need for retribution, sending vengeance through his veins with every spurt of electrolytic fluid.

He spits the man's name like a curse. "Director Kidan."


	20. To Be Claimed

Kidan takes a step back to widen his aim. "And you've brought John Crichton! You never intended to make the exchange, did you? But you brought him all the same, your very own contingency plan."

Bialar nods as he slowly releases Gemmi, allowing her to fall to the floor. He spreads his arms wide to show he is not reaching for a weapon. "I have no love for the Scarran empire. Why would I do anything to aid them if I could serve my interests otherwise?"

"Serve to survive, 354. A creed your creator would have done well to remember." Steadying the pulse rifle against his hip, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a dangling metal object. "Collar him." He tosses the device and Bialar catches it in the air.

Bialar worries the collar in his hands, pretending to deliberate. "Why should I trust you to let me take Gemmi?"

"You're not seriously thinking of selling me out here!" The pitch of Crichton's voice rises theatrically. "Come on, man, what about old times?"

Kidan shrugs. "Because I have no use for her. Or you. It's Crichton the Scarrans want."

"Agreed then. John, I am truly sorry, but I suggest you comply. It's the collar or a pulse blast." He raises the newly-disabled device and gives it meaningful shake.

"Do I really have to choose?" Crichton quips.

Bialar snaps the collar around Crichton's neck and pushes him toward Kidan.

Kidan raises the weapon to aim at Bialar's head, but Crichton lunges and takes hold of Kidan's arm, pulling him off balance and causing the blast to miss. Bialar pulls his stun weapon from his pocket and fires, striking Kidan in the chest.

Reeling from the peripheral effects of the stun weapon, Crichton staggers toward a transport and leans against it. "Warn me, _then_ zap the bad guy. Didn't we have a talk about this once today?"

"I find my aim is better with my head in tact." Bialar pulls Gemmi out of the lift and picks her up. She feels too light and limp in his arms, like a pile of rags. Given his bioloid strength, he should hand her to Crichton and shoulder Kidan's heavier form himself, but the feel of Gemmi's breathing is the only thing that tells him she's alive. He can't bring himself to release her.

He hears approaching footsteps and then sees Sikozu emerge from behind a row of vehicles, rolling a stasis pod. Her smirk of self-satisfaction fades when she sees Gemmi. "Is she still alive?"

Bialar nods. "The blood is only a diversion. That's Jayza?"

"See for yourself." Sikozu walks to one of the transports and opens the door. "I'll need help loading the pod."

Bialar crouches next to the stasis pod. Cradling Gemmi in his lap with one arm, he uses the other to wipe frost from the pod's window, revealing the blue-tinged features of the woman inside. Her face has no more expression than those of her inactive bioloids, but even without her maternal smile, there is no mistaking Jayza. Involuntarily, his hand clenches into a fist. He dreads telling Gemmi and Talyn that their friend is beyond hope and wants to crush Kidan, not only for what he has done to Jayza but for forcing Bialar to watch as those closest to him are dealt yet another loss.

"Scarrans! Hurry!" Sikozu calls, pointing across the docking bay.

The Scarrans also hear her warning and begin moving at a dead run. Three strides put Bialar at the door of the transport, and he lifts Gemmi into the vehicle before turning to help Crichton maneuver the stasis pod. Their pursuers are closing far too quickly for Bialar to reach Kidan and drag the man into the transport. He debates the idea of at least going back for the pulse rifle and putting an end to Gemmi's tormentor, but Sikozu has already begun closing the transport door. For the moment, pragmatism outweighs revenge, and he climbs into the vehicle.

"How do you propose we make our exit?" he demands. "The sensors won't allow the docking bay door to open while there are unprotected lifeforms inside."

"Override code," Sikozu answers without looking up from the control panel. Her fingers flutter on the touch pad and Bialar watches through the transport's window as the doors respond.

"Well done." Were he still a Peacekeeper captain, he would conscript her just so he could promote her and issue a formal commendation.

Of five Scarrans, three become plastered against one of the vehicles by the surge of air that rushes into the void. The other two, along with Kidan's unconscious body, are whipped toward the exit. One of the pinned Scarrans reaches out an arm for his comrades and catches Kidan instead, then pulls him to safety.

As the transport exits the docking bay, Bialar pounds the wall in a brief moment of futile rage. Sikozu and Crichton exchange a glance before turning back to stare at the control panel and the stars, respectively. Bialar sinks to the floor, finding just enough room to sit between Gemmi and the stasis pod.

Though he doesn't dare disturb her, he wants to pull her to his side and hold her while she sleeps, waiting for her to wake and say his name. For the three monens he spent on the research station, she served as his anchor, a steadfast affirmation of his own continuity. Whether prying for stories of his past, arguing with him over Talyn, or spilling out her own frustrations, Gemmi always called him by his name. He still finds it ironic that the technician who mapped his neural patterns into bioloid code is the only person who never saw him as a mere machine.

Crichton twists in his seat and looks from Gemmi to Bialar. "She could just be shell-shocked."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning now that she's safe, she might get better on her own. You could wake up one morning and find her trying to optimize your algorithms." Crichton flashes a smile that doesn't touch his eyes.

"She wouldn't. She was too proud of having preserved my 'living consciousness,' as she called it."

"You mean she wasn't in your head all the time, tweaking your code, trying to get you to put the cap back on the toothpaste and leave the seat down? Sounds like you had it pretty good."

"You have no idea how frustrating it was to be her project, to have someone take credit for your very existence." Bialar shakes his head. "She was always so... pleased with herself, as if my every thought or action was some accomplishment of hers. It was so maddening I didn't realize how attached to her I had become."

Crichton laughs. "You kidding? They all make you their project. It's the price you pay, at least outside of your PK free-love Nazi cult. Hell, if Alex could've gotten into my head, I'd be a re-programmed man. And talk about taking credit! I get a promotion, and she's on the phone with her dad before D.K. can even buy me a drink!"

Bialar watches the slight rise and fall of Gemmi's chest as he considers Crichton's words. Perhaps it is not so bad, or so unusual, to be claimed.


	21. What Needs to Be Done

"She's not getting better." Aeryn leans against the wall of Bialar's quarters on Moya, arms folded under her breasts. Her voice sounds flat and her face is a mask of neutrality.

"I am aware of that." Automatically, his eyes dart to the door, watching for Chiana to return with Gemmi.

"Then you realize we need to move forward with the mission. John isn't going to rest until the command carrier data spools are destroyed. Whatever knowledge she may have had, we have to do without it. For frell's sake, Bialar, you never let limited intel stop you before!"

She's right, of course. Despite Noranti's herbs and the kindness of everyone on Moya, Gemmi is no better after twelve solar days. Unable, or perhaps unwilling, to speak, she offers no clue as to the reason for her condition. She has to be bathed, dressed, and fed, and worse, she shows no sign of recognizing him. Save Chiana, who cares for Gemmi as she would a small child, they are all losing hope.

Reluctantly, he nods. "Agreed. We move forward."

"This time, you're not leaving me behind." She glares and raises her chin as if daring him to argue.

"Your assistance will no doubt be valuable." He sighs. "What is it, Aeryn? You're twitching like a rabid drannit, and it is not about the mission."

She throws her arms down to her sides. "I didn't want to be the one to have to say this, but John couldn't do it. He's too frelling soft. Look at Gemmina, really look at her next time you see her! I don't care if she is Kalish, I know the walking death when I see it. As a Sebaccean, I don't know how you can do this to her."

Incredulous, he searches Aeryn's face and mentally recoils from the resolve he sees there. "You mean you don't know how I can allow her to live?"

"What she's doing isn't living, Bialar." Her face softens and the harsh edge in her voice disappears. "You aren't saving her. You're only protracting her death. You know what needs to be done. I'm sorry." She steps toward Bialar and squeezes his shoulder briefly before leaving the room.

Bialar leaves as well, but makes sure to head in the opposite direction. He seeks solace in motion, striding through Moya's corridors to give himself the illusion of going somewhere. He wanders for a tenth arn before hearing Chiana's voice echoing from an orthogonal corridor.

"Much better, huh? I picked it up for you at the last commerce station. You look drad in it."

He turns and moves toward the sound of her voice. When he reaches her open door, he stops and leans against the opposite wall, unable to bring himself to interrupt.

Gemmi sits perched on a stool, Chiana hovering over her and buttoning the front of a red sleeveless gown. When finished, she steps back and tilts her head, scrutinizing her work. She shakes her head and bends over to undo several of the buttons, then smiles. "Perfect."

Chiana steps out of his sight for a moment and returns with a brush. As she runs the brush through Gemmi's hair, she begins to hum a minor melody. Though Gemmi's face remains expressionless, her shoulders relax slightly at the sound of Chiana's song.

"Where did you hear that?" Bialar steps into the room without being asked, overcome with curiosity.

"What? That song?" She puts down the brush and lays her hands and Gemmi's shoulders. "From you. When you were with her. She seemed to like it."

"Ah." He doesn't bother trying to hide his disappointment.

"Doesn't she look great?" Chiana makes a flourishing gesture and offers a forced smile.

The dress fits Gemmi like a coat of paint, calling attention to her soft curves with it's violent color. She was desirable in the simple gray pants and blouse she wore on the research station. In this dress, she looks like an entertainer in some disreputable establishment, the kind of place where low-ranking Peacekeepers risk becoming irreversibly contaminated and then try to wash away their indiscretions with resklak.

He shakes his head. "Why dress her this way?"

Chiana shrugs, looking hurt. "I thought she might like the way she looks in it. Or you might, and then she'd like the way you look at her."

"You are only making this more painful!"

"Hey!" Chiana slides toward him and wraps an arm around his waist. "She'll get better. I promise."

He throws off her arm and takes Gemmi by the hand, dragging her to her feet. "And your prediction is based upon what, exactly?"

"I see things sometimes. And after you got back, when you walked off the transport with her, I saw her working on your bioloid. So I know she'll be ok."

"You 'see things'?" He holds up a hand to stop her from replying, not wanting to hear anymore of her superstitious drivel. Dragging Gemmi with him, he leaves the room.

Once he is sure Chiana hasn't followed, he stops and cups Gemmi's chin, turning her face up toward him. Her eyes are as empty as a cloudless sky, giving no hint as to how much is left of her mind. He knows what needs to be done and whom he must ask for help. Frustrated with her slow gait, he gives up dragging her and carries her to Pilot's chamber.

"Crais. Gemmina." Pilot greets them in a solemn tone.

He sits Gemmi down against the console and faces Pilot. "I have no right to ask anything of you or of Moya."

"Which means you will." Pilot's eyes narrow slightly and he regards Bialar with a cautious expression.

"Yes," he admits. "I have a request for the DRD's."


	22. The Wreckage of Her Memories

Gemmi lays still on the bed in Bialar's quarters, staring at ceiling with her empty eyes. He holds one of her hands in both of his, his thumb positioned to feel her pulse. Perhaps Aeryn is right, and she isn't truly living, but at least for the moment, she is alive.

_It has been done as you requested. _Pilot's voice floats over the comm. A few microts later, a DRD zooms into the room, proudly carrying it's most recent work.

"Thank you Pilot, and my thanks to Moya as well for the service of her DRD's." He lifts the droid up onto the bed next to Gemmi. As it extends an arm toward her, a thought occurs to him. "Wait! Pilot, I don't want Gemmi conscious when it happens. Can you have Noranti bring something for her to take?"

_Of course. _

The macrots drag by, and when he finally hears someone approach his doorway, he turns to find Sikozu carrying a steaming cup.

"Noranti sent you?" Bialar asks.

"No, I asked if I could bring this to her. Noranti says it should keep her from feeling pain. If you hold her up, I'll help her drink."

Bialar pulls Gemmi into a sitting position and holds her shoulders in place while Sikozu pours the hot liquid into her mouth. Half of it ends up on the front of her dress, turning the fabric from crimson to maroon and giving the impression of a bleeding wound. He lowers her head down onto the pillow, careful to keep her hair away from her neck.

Sikozu looks from Gemmi to the DRD to Bialar. "May I stay and watch?"

"There is nothing for you to see, Sikozu," he growls. "Leave us."

She heaves a small sigh of disappointment before doing as he asks.

Bialar turns Gemmi's head away from him so that the DRD has access to the back of her neck. He steps back from the bed and watches as the droid extends an arm and then strikes like a serpent, plunging the device through her skin. Her body gives no sign of the change, but Bialar feels it instantly.

_Moya insists on knowing if you were successful. _Pilot sounds apologetic, as if reluctant to interrupt.

Smiling, Bialar staggers to the bed and kneels beside it. For a moment, he cannot respond; his mind is too overwhelmed by the new data streams flooding into it. When he is able to establish a mental boundary, he replies, "Yes, Pilot. Tell Moya that Gemmi and I are now linked."

_I am glad. I know it is probably too early to tell, but will she recover enough to restore Talyn to his bioloid body? Since hearing your idea to become linked, Moya has been optimistic about the possibility of Gemmina restoring Talyn. She says a Leviathan and pilot can heal the wounds of each other's spirits._

"You are correct, Pilot. It is too soon to tell, and neither of us is a Leviathan. I will need time to sort through the wreckage of her memories, but from my first impressions, I believe that there is a 'living consciousness' here." He moves the DRD onto the floor to make room for himself and then sits down.

_Then I will not interrupt you again, though we ask that you tell us of your progress. _

"Of course, Pilot," he promises.

He lays down on the bed next to Gemmi, but not touching her, and closes his eyes. He wants no sensory distractions as he plunges himself into her thoughts. Unlike Talyn's or Kateri's, her mind has little recognizable structure. He wonders if this chaotic jumble of thoughts is what his own mind looks like to a Leviathan. If so, it explains why he so often had to explain his ideas and feelings to Talyn.

"Gemmi!" He calls her name out loud. He learned with Talyn that giving literal voice to his thoughts amplifies them through the link.

She does not respond directly, but he has the impression of something slipping away and hiding. He plunges deeper into the maelstrom of pain and confusion, leaving his own physical awareness behind. Seized by a moment of panic, he wonders if he will be able to find his way back. If he becomes lost here, then Aeryn will do what she believes to be her moral duty and put an end to Gemmi's life. Perhaps her sense of Sebaccean decency will even extend to bioloids, and she will put a pulse blast through 354 as well.

Failure is simply not acceptable. He conjures an avatar for himself, putting on his full Peacekeeper uniform. When he was a captain, his word was law, and so it will be with Gemmi. He calls out to her once more. "Gemmi! Your presence is required."

_Just leave me alone. _The thought comes from no particular direction.

He turns in a slow circle, searching through the flashing imagery around him-- Kalish men and women with cold, impassive faces and a variety of devices, Director Kidan, smirking from behind a pane of glass, and monsters such as a child's imagination would conjure. The visual impressions are disturbing, but the sensations surrounding them are worse. There is the feel of being burned alive and that of being plunged into ice, but also the more mundane sensation of a persistent itch in an unreachable part of the body, as well as the feel of being systematically prodded over every section of skin.

Even those things do not explain the holocaust of emotions blazing in Gemmi's mind. There is a sense of mortal terror that dwarfs what he felt when Crichton used him to bait Xalax's minions, humiliation to match what he felt in the aurora chair, and a wrenching sense of loss equal to his anguish over Tauvo. Intermingled with these agonies are shards of ecstasy and exhilaration, but everything is stained by a caustic miasma of guilt.

None of this meshes with the Gemmi he knew. He shakes his head in disbelief. "What was done to you?"

_Less than I deserve. _

He raises his hands and throws them down in frustration. "I do not believe that. Stop hiding yourself from me, Gemmi!" He conjures a pulse rifle and blasts an exit from the nightmarish jungle of her recent memories. Stepping through the hole takes him further into the past.

"_What's that you're doing, Gemmi?"_

_She hunches close over the console, trying to hide what's on the screen. "I told you to call me 'Gemmina' now. I'm not a child, Father." _

"_Ah, yes, you have reached the impressive age of sixteen cycles and are owed proper deference. Very well. What are you doing, Gemmina?" _

"_I've finished all the work you asked me to. I made a database for the inventory and another to track the store's revenue. We'll be the most organized merchants at the commerce station." She bends further over the console, hoping he'll leave. _

"_Very good. Now why aren't you out making friends?" Her Father takes her by the shoulders and moves her gently aside so he can see the console. "And what is this? A program?" _

_She nods, flushing. "Her name is Ceredin. I've been working on her since Mother... Since we came here. She'll be able to help me with things, even write other programs, but she isn't quite finished yet. She's not very impressive at the moment." _

"_To the contrary, Gemmi." He sighs. "If you had been born thirty cycles ago, I could have sent you for a technical education. You would have been quite the scholar, before the Scarran's took over all Kalish research and education." _

"_I could still--" She begins hopefully. _

"_No. We will not be part of the oppression of our people." He leaves before she can argue._

_Gemmina slumps down in the chair next to the console. _

_A string of text appears on the screen. _When are you going to tell him?

"_I'm not. You are. After I leave," she whispers. _

But I'm going with you, as a sample of your work, you said, and as your friend.

"_Yes, and you're also staying here to help Father. That's the beauty of being a program, or a pseudo-consciousness, or whatever it is you like to be called." _

I like to be called "Ceredin." It's my name, Gemmi.

"_Gemmina! Oh. You're doing that just to bother me, aren't you? Don't answer that." _

Bialar smiles, feeling for the first time that he has found a solid piece of her. This part of her mind is still cluttered, but he can at least guess at a general direction of chronology. He takes a step forward.


	23. How You Live with It

"_You're the new bioloid programmer?" A tall Kalish woman with streaks of gray in her hair leans in the doorway of Gemmi's work area. "I expected Senior Technician Gemmina Delonik to be older." _

"_Ah, yes, well, I finished my senior certification last cycle. Director Kidan was impressed with my certification project. She's going to help me with my job here. My project, that is. Not that she likes being called a project. Anyway, I can show you, if you'd like to see." _

_The older woman nods and extends a hand. "Senior Technician Jayza Harton. I lead the cosmetic team. It's good to meet you, Gemmina."_

_After shaking hands with Jayza, she returns to the console and calls up Ceredin. As the program loads, she says, "It's 'Gemmi' to everyone who knows me."_

"_That suits you," Jayza replies with a wry smile. _

_Above the console, Ceredin's hologram stretches her arms as if waking from a nap. "Hello, Gemmi. And--" She raises an eyebrow in Jayza's direction. _

"_Jayza," the woman supplies. "I feel entirely farbot talking to a machine, by the way." _

"_You aren't talking to the machine, my dear. You are addressing the pseudo-consciousness that resides within it." Ceredin gestures to her own holographic body. _

"_Be nice!" Gemmi barks. "Jayza is our new colleague." She leans back in her chair and gestures for Jayza to sit beside her. "I've taught Ceredin to do a lot of the basic bioloid coding, things Kidan thought I would need a junior staff for."_

"_Impressive. But why the trappings? She looks like a Sebaccean. And her movements and voice must have taken arns to program." _

"_It's not frivolous!" Gemmi grimaces, realizing how defensive she just sounded. "We were learning about how to translate the data Kidan gives us into bioloid code. There's so much more data than I ever imagined! We have her responses to every possible stimulus. It's overwhelming, at first, but then it's exciting when you see what you can do!_

"_I based Ceredin's appearance and her movements on bioloid 63. I know this sounds farbot, but Ceredin chose her. She likes that yellow hair for some reason. I like her movements. She's so confident and graceful I think she must have been a dancer. The original subject, I mean." _

"_Hardly!" Jayza snorts. "She was a Peacekeeper soldier." She shakes her head and stares at Gemmi with incredulity. "I must say, you've made your peace with the data collection process more rapidly than any other bioloid programmer I've known. Most find it at least a bit disturbing." Her tone is bitter. _

"_I hadn't thought about the data collection process. What is it?"_

_Jayza's eyes go wide, then narrow. "Oh, for the love of reason! You don't know anything about what we do here, do you? Kidan drags you out of some titanium tower school where you spent the last ten cycles with your nose to a console, and you have no idea... I could kill him sometimes. He's worse than the Scarrans." _

_Gemmi shrugs. "I know we make bioloids from people who have died or become completely incapacitated. It's what I've always wanted to do! Please, tell me what it is you're so upset about." _

_Jayza backs into the doorway, shaking her head. "Ask Kidan, Gemmi. He's the one who brought you here and frell if I'll be the one to break you for him." She pivots and stalks away. _

_Ceredin twirls a strand of golden hair around a holographic finger. "What do you think she means about the data collection process?" _

"_I'll tell you when I find out." _

Gemmi and Jayza looked close to their current ages in that memory, so Bialar knows he must be close to his goal. Another step in her memories takes him across the research station and forward in time.

"_How the frelling hezmana can you live with yourself?" Gemmi stands in the doorway of Jayza's quarters and screams in the older woman's face. _

_Jayza nods is if Gemmi's words were merely the expected greeting. "You spoke with Kidan?" _

"_Worse! Oh, so much worse," she feels ashamed of the tears that won't stop and the sobs that ring through the hallway. _

"_Here, come inside." Jayza puts an arm around Gemmi's shoulders and leads her to a soft couch big enough for both of them to sit. "Tell me what it is you've been told, and then I will answer your question." _

_Gemmi sinks into the seat and leans against Jayza's side, desperate for some form of comfort. "He took me to the med station. I watched part of the assessment process. It's horrific! They give them drugs and put electrodes in their brains. That's how they get the signal information for all the sensations and emotions. They induce every mental state you can think of, make them feel every possible thing..." She takes a deep, shuddering breath. "The ones that survive the process, they kill."_

"_I know. Would you like to hear my answer now?" _

"_You have one? You have a reason you can live with yourself knowing that's what you're a part of?" Gemmi wishes she could laugh. _

"_I could give you the answer that I'm sure Kidan gave you-- 'serve to survive.' For some Kalish, that is enough. For me, it wasn't. I was not recruited to work here, not like you. I came because I believe it is how I best serve our own people."_

_Gemmi sits up and stares at her, shocked out of her tears. "What?"_

"_My first husband died fighting the Scarran's, Gemmi. Shortly after that, the Scarrans razed the entire city in order to destroy the resistance cell. Thousands died. _Children_ died. All because the Scarrans feared a handful of men with a cache of weapons. What we do here gives them a better way, a chance to prevent rebellion without wholly destroying our people. Our bioloids are spies and assasins--"_

"_I know that now. Kidan explained." She repeats Jayza's words over in her mind, trying to use them to wipe out the memory of what Kidan showed her. "Frell, I wish you had been able to explain that to Ceredin." _

_Jayza squeezes her shoulders. "I will, if you like."_

"_No, no, you can't! She's gone. When I told her what Kidan had showed me, she said she couldn't be a part of this. You have to understand, it was worse for her. She looks in a mirror, or she would if she had one anyway, and sees subject 63. I made that data a part of her, and she couldn't stand it. She removed herself." Gemmi wipes her eyes on her sleeve. _

_Jayza winces. "Gemmi, your attachment to this program truly worries me. Besides, you did have a backup, yes?" _

_She nods. "A datachip, but it was in the console, and she made sure it was corrupted too. The only other copy, and it's a very early version anyway, but the only other copy is with my father. He disowned me when I left for a Scarran-sanctioned school." _

"_You'll rebuild your program, and next time it will be more stable. A senior scholar sees lessons where others see failure, yes? And in the mean time, I will make sure Kidan gets you a junior staff to help with your work." _

"_Jayza... thank you. I have nowhere else to go, or I think I'd just leave." _

Bialar stands motionless for a moment, unable to find words, but knowing he has found the reason for Gemmi's retreat. Like Ceredin, she has "removed herself". He moves into the boundary between her older memories and those of her assessment to find her sitting among the shards of her own consciousness, chin on her knees, wrists crossed in front of her ankles.

He reaches out a hand for her. "Get up."

"I'm not coming back. Now you know why. Or maybe you don't. That was two cycles ago, and the numbers on the bioloids, they reset every cycle. This cycle, I helped murder three hundred and fifty three people before finding you. Then I felt what those people had been through..."

He crouches beside her so he can look her in the eyes. "I will never show you the things I did as a Peacekeeper. Doing that would violate the promise I made not to harm you. But suffice to say I have committed atrocities far worse than merely exploiting data obtained by torture. My role was more analogous to Kidan's than yours, but like you, I could envision no other life."

She nods slowly. "Then you understand why I can't come back. But if you were really like Kidan, I don't understand how you live with it."

"I linked with Talyn shortly after leaving the Peacekeepers, as you are now linked with me. I never allowed myself the luxury of remorse, Gemmi. Talyn needed me, as he needs you. As... I need you." He stands, dragging her with him.

"Talyn needs me. And you need me to fix him." She bites her lip for a moment, pondering those words. "Where are we? Do you have 355 and the datachip?"

"We are aboard Moya, and yes." He says that out loud, having regained his physical awareness. He props himself up on one arm and watches Gemmi sit up beside him.

"I'll fix Talyn. I want to do that for you." She reaches out to touch his hair and grimaces. "I liked you better as a Sebaccean, which probably makes me entirely farbot, not that I have reason to care anymore. About being farbot."

"I have made you irreversibly contaminated," he agrees.

She glances down at her dress, then runs a hand over herself from waist to knee, feeling the fabric. "Did you put this on me? Not that I don't like it, just that, it's, well, why?"

He laughs for what feels like the first time in cycles. "You have Chiana to thank for that."

"But you like it. I can tell through the link." She smiles. "It's just like you described. The link, I mean. And this is how Talyn got your data, though I don't know exactly how, because I'm only getting bits and snatches. Like right now, you think I'm being 'Kalish', whatever that means."

"It means I have twice now pulled you from hezmana, and you respond by musing about how Talyn transferred my data." He puts a hand on her shoulder and pushes her back down onto the bed, relishing the way she twists in an instinctive attempt to free herself.

After a few microts, she laces her fingers on the back of his neck and pulls him down for a kiss. _Is this better? Less Kalish? _

He breaks away from her and shakes his head in astonishment. "You are still thinking about data transfer."

"Well, it is fascinating! And besides, I can think about more than one thing at once. But since it bothers you..." She reaches up to the back of her neck.

When he realizes she is about to remove the transponder, he takes hold of her wrist and yanks her hand to his chest. "You will never break the link. Never."

She raises her eyebrows. "That's a bit frightening, really. And you're hurting my hand."

He loosens his grip. "I did not mean to hurt you."

"No, but you do mean to own me. Although... I don't think that's quite as scary as it sounds. You want to keep me, protect me, it's almost like I'm _your_ project now." She smiles as she reads him through the link, liking what she finds there so much that her eyes mist over.

"Not my project. Just mine." He puts both his hands on her shoulders and leans over her, noting that her thoughts no longer revolve around data transfer. 


	24. A Frelling Mess

"I wasn't expecting an audience," Gemmi mutters, glancing around at the array of motley beings surrounding 355. Through the link, Bialar supplies a name for each face, but they are still strangers to her, despite the recognition she sees in their eyes.

The Hynerian floats up to Gemmi in his hover throne and examines her as if she were for sale.

She takes an instinctive step back. "Ah, hello, Dominar Rygel."

"She speaks! And knows my proper title. So much for the walking death!" He nods in satisfaction and hovers over to the Sebaccean woman. "And you wanted to euthanize her. Would have been a waste. I want to see if she can put me in a bioloid body-- immune to illness, fully functional in all the ways that matter, I assume, and virtually immortal! I'll be Rygel the Sixteenth and Last, eternal dominar!"

The Sebeaccean, Aeryn, puts a fist in the Hynerian's abdomen, hitting hard enough to make him double over. She looks from Gemmi to Bialar and says, "I was wrong."

The regret in Aeryn's voice strikes a chord with Gemmi. She hates the thought of anyone feeling that way because of her. "You interpreted the data as you saw it. No one can blame you for that! And it doesn't matter now anyway."

Aeryn meets Gemmi's eyes and nods gratefully.

The man standing next to Aeryn, Crichton, throws an arm around her shoulders and flashes a smile at Gemmi. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Dr. Frankenstein. Gotta give you credit, your monster aced the Turing test!"

She nods acknowledgment and glances at Bialar, hoping for some clarification. All she feels through the link, however, is a sort of resigned confusion along with a lingering wish to throttle the Hynerian for his thoughtless words.

"So, you remember me at all?" The Nebari girl hops down from the table, where she had perched next to 355.

"Chiana." Gemmi wraps her arms around the girl's waist in a brief hug. "I do in a way. Bialar remembers everything you did for me, and I sense it through the link. Besides, he said you're the one who bought this for me." She gestures to the dress that she still wears, thanks to Bialar's impatience with regard to Talyn's restoration. He wouldn't even give her time to find something more practical to wear.

"Hmph! 'Bought'!" Rygel snorts.

"Bought, stole. What matters is she looks drad." Chiana shrugs, hops back onto the table, and picks up the datachip. "So, you've really got Talyn on here, huh?"

Gemmi nods. "Talyn, Bialar, and another project of mine."

"No offense, but that's creepy." Chiana puts down the datachip and shudders. "Nobody's making a copy of me, no way!"

"No one would want to!" Rygel grumbles. "And besides, I'm her next project."

"Alright, enough. She needs to work uninterrupted." Bialar's irritation would be clear even without the transponder.

As the others clear out of the room, she prepares for the transfer by placing the datchip in Moya's console, which she then connects to 355. Bialar pulls a chair up to the table and sits, his mind so frozen with anticipation that he looks and feels as still as 355. Gemmi's hand hovers over the touch pad as she deliberates. She can call Ceredin's individual subroutines without invoking the pseudo-consciousness, but that will mean making Bialar wait another arn, possibly two, before being reunited with Talyn.

Since reconstructing Ceredin, she has never once invoked the main function, too afraid of repeating the waking nightmare from two cycles ago. Now, though, she has no reason to tell her friend the painful truth about the bioloid data. Instead of being horrified and ashamed, Ceredin will be delighted at what she's become a part of. Gemmi enters the proper sequence and then smiles at Bialar's astonishment when Ceredin's hologram appears.

"She's here to help with Talyn," Gemmi explains.

Ceredin shakes her head in confusion. "Over two cycles, Gemmi? Yes, I can read the date from the console, don't look surprised. Why?"

"This isn't the time to explain," Gemmi replies.

"Hm. Who am I to demand explanations anyway? Say, is that a bioloid? It's not terribly convincing. Is it supposed to be Kalish, or Sebaccean?"

Bialar bristles with indignation streaked with amusement. Ignoring Ceredin, he asks Gemmi, "Did you not say this program can help Talyn?"

"She can, or I can disable her and run her individual algorithms one by one. It just takes longer that way, at least it takes longer than she would if she weren't being... this way."

Ceredin folds her arms across her chest. "Oh, I'm working on 355. Such as it is. I haven't seen anything this sloppy since-- Ever. The other one is nearly as bad. Both of them have stability issues you could have fixed. And do I really need to transfer all of this data? Some of it seems quite superfluous..."

"Yes!" Gemmi snaps. "Yes, you do. Every last node, Ceredin. That's what a living consciousness looks like. That's what you get when your programmer is experience, when your patterns are shaped by time, and love, and pain. It's the result of cycles of being bombarded by data streams you don't have the luxury of ignoring, of not being able to clear out the bits you don't like. It's chaotic. It's illogical. It's a frelling mess! And it's beautiful."

"I see." Ceredin falls silent, her superior smirk replaced by a look of serious contemplation. After a few microts, she says, "It's done. Shall I bring him online?"

Gemmi nods.

Without being dismissed, Ceredin's hologram vanishes as Talyn sits up, blinking in confusion.

He shoots Gemmi an accusing look. "You said all you were doing was making a backup. It was only supposed to be a few microts of being out, but now I'm... where?"

"We are aboard Moya, Talyn." Bialar's simple reply contains so much emotion that Gemmi blinks back embarrassing tears.

"Aboard Moya," Talyn repeats. "Frell, that sounds strange! Does she know we're here?"

Bialar nods. "She is eager to speak with you. Come, I will show you to Pilot's chamber."

"Find him something to wear first, please," Gemmi reminds him.

"Probably a good idea with Chiana roaming the corridors," Bialar agrees. He takes Gemmi's face in both his hands and kisses her, then says, "Thank you," before leaving with Talyn.

Ceredin's hologram flashes back into existence, not standing, as she usually does, but instead perched on the edge of the table, one elbow on her knee, her chin resting on her fist.

"Why the disappearing act?" Gemmi asks.

"I didn't want to intrude. Besides, I needed a moment." She turns and glares at Gemmi. "Oh, do not even think about making fun of me for that. I'm in no mood for it."

"Ceredin, about the time gap--"

"It's not that. It's the fact that I just now realized how much I'm missing. I always knew on some level that you were more than me, but I didn't understand just how much more." She leans back on her elbows and sighs.

Gemmi laughs out loud, eliciting a look of pure venom from Ceredin. "Oh, I'm sorry, it's just that you're brooding like Talyn. That puts you one step closer to being a living consciousness."

"What, realizing how shallow my algorithms truly are? Doubting the abilities of my creator? Knowing that mere creation isn't sufficient without experience? And worst of all, knowing how painfully obvious all this is to everyone else?"

"And being a petulant, sulking brat about it? Yes, that pretty much covers it." Gemmi tries to wipe the smile from her face and gives up.

"Hm. If you need me, I'll be on my datachip." Ceredin vanishes once more.


	25. Just This

"Why is Gemmi here?" Talyn demands, once he and Bialar are out of earshot.

"Because I brought her here."

"That's not an answer." Talyn follows Bialar into a small room that must be his sleeping quarters.

He takes the shirt Bialar offers and slips it on, then reluctantly steps into the pants, hating all the excess signals they send to his brain. _Freedom simply means you choose your own chains_, Bialar had said, using that tone he always does when he thinks he's being clever. Being in this body is like being chained, and he never would have chosen it. Having to put on clothes is like stepping into a cell, making his imprisonment complete.

He knows some beings believe their gods dole out justice in an afterlife, so maybe this is all because of the med ship. Frell, maybe part of it is because of the command carrier. Not all the Peacekeepers are bad; some of them must be like Aeryn and Bialar, or at least they might have had the chance to be someday. He probably deserves to be stuck like this; he just didn't think the lord of his hezmana would be a little Kalish woman, and he doesn't know why Bialar had to bring her here.

Bialar sits in a chair at a small table, twirling a metallic object in his fingers. He sighs when he sees that Talyn won't look away from him until he gets a real answer, but instead of explaining, he asks a question. "How much do you remember from the research station?"

He sits down in the chair opposite Bialar and shrugs. "Two and a half monens of taking lessons with the Scarran and Kalish children, looking for Moya with the sensors, and being in trouble half the time. It wasn't all bad, I guess. Jayza was nice, and some of the kids were too. This Scarran girl, Veena, seemed to feel sorry for me. She helped run the sensors, but we never found anything. Last thing I remember is Gemmi saying she was going to make a backup."

"You spent nearly a monen on a datachip. Gemmi was only now able to restore you, which means twice now she has saved your life despite-- no matter. You will show her some respect."

"Or she'll do the same kind of dren she did in your head? Make it so if I frell up it's the end of both of us? Maybe you can forgive her for that, but I can't."

"The fail safes are gone, Talyn. She knew she was being taken for assessment after... a particular incident, and she wanted to ensure I would not be left defenseless. When we are linked once more, you will see her true intentions for yourself."

"Linked. What's the point of being linked now, now that I'm just... this?" Talyn responds automatically, before the full implication of Bialar's statement sinks in. When it does, he shakes his head hard. It's something he's seen the Kalish do when they don't understand something, though it never seems to help, any more than all the other pointless gestures they make. "You're linked with Gemmi?"

"I had Moya's DRD's build a modified transponder. It was necessary. Fortunately, the result was successful, and what's more, I believe the design can be further modified to allow you to communicate with Moya. I promised her as much." He holds the small object up for Talyn to examine.

"Is that it?" Talyn holds out a hand and Bialar drops the object into it. At first glance, it appears to be no more than a solid spike, but upon closer inspection, he can see tiny lines of circuitry tracing the surface. "Once it's in, it's permanent?"

"Not for you, no. Gemmi has a fully biological mind, and as a biomechanoid I can exert some measure of control over her. You will be able to remove it if you choose."

Talyn hands the transponder back to Bialar and nods. "Then I'm ready. And I'm glad you're keeping Gemmi on a chain and not the other way around. I guess we could need her again." He pauses, hoping Bialar will say something. After a few microts of silence, he adds, "You're not going to tell me what happened, are you? Why she had to use the backup? How I got the scar on my chest?"

"For now, I thought your first wish would be to speak with Moya." Bialar stands up and moves behind Talyn. He puts one hand on his shoulder and uses the other to press the sharp tip of the transponder into Talyn's synthetic flesh.

Ignoring the pain, Talyn waits impatiently for the familiar touch of Bialar's mind. "I do want to speak with her, but she'll want to know what's happened to me. All I can tell her is I think it's something I've done wrong."

_All she needs to know is that you are safe, Talyn. That will be enough. Now come with me to Pilot's chamber. I believe it will be easier to speak with her from there. _

"You spoke through the link!" Talyn turns to Bialar and flashes a smile, one of the few responses that have become second-nature to him after weekens among the Scarran's and Kalish.

"I wanted to test it. I still prefer to use my own voice." He leads Talyn from the room and into the corridor.

Talyn stumbles several times along the way, too captivated by his newly expanded senses to pay attention to his awkward appendages. Reluctantly, he allows Bialar to take one of his arms as they make their way toward Pilot's chamber. In some ways, the link feels much like it did before. He hadn't realized how much he missed the reassurance flowing through that bond, the knowledge that he wasn't alone, that he mattered to someone.

Other aspects of this new link are different than anything he has ever experienced. When Aeryn Sun had linked with them, her connection had been primarily with Talyn, and that's what he feared it would now be like with Gemmi. Thankfully, the Kalish woman's direct link is with Bialar, so only faint traces of her thoughts and emotions bleed through. She and Bialar echo each other like a pair of mated Leviathan's sending infrared signals through the void. It's disgusting, but if he concentrates hard enough he can forget it's there. At least he'll be able to remove the transponder when they start frelling.

Another set of signals grows stronger as they proceed. When they finally arrive at Pilot's den, he gives up trying to make his ridiculous bioloid body move properly and collapses onto the floor, his mind lost in Moya's familiar patterns. Her gentle mind caresses his, and something inside him crumbles at her touch.

_Oh, Moya, Mother... I'm useless now. It was all for nothing. The Scarrans have the data spools from the command carrier, and I've become... this. I can't protect you, or Bialar, or anyone. I can't even transport anything. _

_Not useless. Never that, Talyn. Now you are one I protect and carry, even more sacred and precious for being my son. _

_It's not enough! I have no purpose! _

_Talyn... _He feels her distress, her wish that there were something, anything she could do.

_Just let me stay for now. Let me feel what you feel and remember what it's like. _

_Of course. _

"I did not until now realize what I had done to him." Bialar's voice rings heavy with regret.

Pilot reduces Moya's response to words. "Moya says that you brought him back to her in the only way you could. She is grateful."

"I've had him brought back as a ghost, Pilot. Moya deserves consolation, but Talyn's wishes should have been at the forefront of my thoughts."

"And what will you do to rectify the matter?" Pilot's distrust resonates through Moya.

"I don't know." For once, Talyn senses no machinations in Bialar's mind, only despair.


	26. A Viable Idea

Across the table from Bialar, Moya's elected captain scowls at a schematic of the Kalish research station while Crichton peers at the hologram with the intent interest of a child examining a game board. To Bialar's right, Gemmi sits holding a portable console, which means Ceredin is present as well, though she chooses not to flaunt her holographic avatar at the moment. Scorpius lounges in a chair, arms spread in an unconvincing imitation of languor. Perched on one of his knees, Sikozu leans forward for a closer look at the schematics. Aeryn hovers behind Crichton as if on guard detail, showing no more intellectual curiosity than one would expect from a Peacekeeper soldier. In some ways, she has reverted to the woman he remembers having under his command. No longer struggling with a newly awakened conscience or fighting against repressed emotions, she has once again become a single-minded creature of purpose, set on keeping _this_ Crichton alive. She is galvanized by loss, pain-forged into a living weapon.

_You and Officer Sun are so much alike, _Gemmi observes. _I can see why Talyn cared for her the way he does. _She grimaces, obviously regretting her choice of words. Through the link, she must realize that Bialar noticed her initial choice of verb tense.

He chooses to ignore her, needing- for many reasons- to focus on the mission. He says out loud, "I have the timing of the sensor sweeps from my Scarran contact."

Crichton shakes his head, "Not gonna work. I took a look at your data. There's no way anyone could fly around that pattern. It's like dodging bullets from a firing squad. You'd have to be a robot to have those kind of reflexes, and even for Frankie's monster here, there's too much time lag between your input and the ship's response."

Sikozu shrugs. "So we program the transport or Aeryn's prowler with the sensor sweep pattern."

"I could do that," Gemmi agrees.

"Which works until the plan gets frelled and they start firing. I am not trusting a stupid machine to pilot a combat mission." D'Argo's objection has a note of finality.

"So you put in a manual override. You could do that easily, couldn't you?" Aeryn glances at Gemmi, who nods. "Besides, it isn't one of Crichton's plans. He's arguing against it, so there's no reason to assume it'll end up frelled."

"I could probably..." Gemmi begins, then shakes her head.

"What?" Crichton and Aeryn prompt together.

"Talyn had, er, _has_ a sophisticated flight AI."Gemmi takes Bialar's hand in one of hers. _'Sophisticated' is an understatement. It's brilliant, and I can probably isolate it from the unstable parts of his program. I've had Ceredin pouring over his code for the last twenty arns and she thinks she can compartmentalize some of the more impressive functions for salvage. I could put it on Aeryn's prowler. The flight AI, I mean. _

"Or Talyn could simply pilot the prowler through a direct link." Bialar squeezes her hand to thank her for the idea, though he can feel her skepticism regarding Talyn's recovery.

"Yeah, except last I checked, he was still in doormat mode up in Pilot's den." Crichton meets Bialar's eyes. "You see that changing anytime soon?"

The wave of sympathy from Gemmi is physically nauseating, even to his biomechanoid stomach. Bialar drops her hand, mentally blocking the link at the same time, placing a wall between her and the cold, roiling sea of fear and frustration that is his mind. Later, the dam will burst, and his thoughts will flood hers in a violent surge, but for now he can maintain the illusion of containment.

"I will speak with Talyn," he promises.

"There is an alternative." Sikozu stands up and moves behind Scorpius, trailing her hands over his shoulders. She bends down until her mouth is near his ear. "Tell them what you were suggesting."

Scorpius hesitates, raising his hands in a theatrical gesture of self-deprecation. "That was merely academic speculation, Sikozu. A problem that might be interesting to study if Gemmina had more time and additional resources."

"Oh, stop being mysterious and tell us! About your idea, I mean." Gemmi leans forward, having taken the bait.

Bialar glances at Crichton and doesn't need a mental link to know the man's thoughts mirror his own-- _how can someone so educated be so naive? _

Scorpius nods, heaves a sigh of mock-reluctance, and finishes with an entirely unnecessary shrug. "I was merely postulating that it may be possible to merge one mind, one-- what is the phrase you use?"

"Living consciousness," Gemmi supplies.

Crichton mouths the phrase at the same time, rolling his eyes.

"Yes," Scorpius continues. "--to merge one living consciousness with another, combining the best traits of both. Do you find that a viable idea?"

Gemmi nods vigorously. "Oh, of course! Bialar's link does that, in a way, though the idea came from the way a Leviathan merges with its Pilot."

"I don't think that's what he means." Crichton's hand twitches near his pulse pistol, though he folds his arms across his chest after a glance at Aeryn. "Pilot is still Pilot, Moya is still Moya, and you're still Dr. Frankenstein and monster, respectively. He's not talking about suped up telepathic phone service here. He's talking about giving Talyn his own personal Harvey."

"Harvey?" Gemmi repeats. "I don't understand."

"An affectionate moniker he gives my neural clone." Scorpius flashes a smile that begs for a pulse blast. "But no, John, I propose nothing of the sort. Harvey, as you call him, has left your... living consciousness in tact. He is a benign program whose only purpose is gleaning information, assisting you in remembering the Ancients' knowledge. What I propose is a more radical fusion of minds."

Gemmi is staring at him raptly, her lips parted slightly in a smile of fascination. "Whose minds?"

"Talyn's and my own." Scorpius leans toward Gemmi, moving suddenly like a striking serpent, charm forgotten as he loses himself to the thrill of possibility. "You transferred Bialar's mind to a bioloid. Do the same with mine. Override Talyn's unstable algorithms with my consciousness. I am already the best of two races, my mind tempered for survival, self-interest honed to an optimum. I have everything Talyn does not: control, self-possession, foresight."

"Gemmi, you will not consider this!" Bialar's words comprise a statement, not a request. The command flicks through the link like the tongue of a whip, falling hard on her mind and breaking her intentions.

"I have a backup," she argues.

Bialar shakes his head. "Once you install him on 355, he will find a way to keep himself there. This creature is more dangerous than I can convey. I cannot allow you to further arm him with Talyn's combat programming, let alone the reconnaissance data he carries, even if I could condone your bastardizing of Talyn's mind."

"Your monster's right, Frankie. Quit while you're ahead. Kind of ahead, anyway." Crichton looks at Gemmi with pleading eyes.

Gemmi laughs humorlessly. "Oh, you don't need to convince me. I'm compelled to agree."

_Not to agree, only to obey, _Bialar corrects her. _That's the difference between our link and the abomination Scorpius proposes._

She shakes her head, her eyes locked with his. _You didn't need to do that. The compulsion, I mean. I wouldn't have touched Talyn's program without your permission, no matter how much I think it's the right thing to do. You could have seen that through the link if you your frelling paranoia weren't in the way. _

_Trust is a luxury I hope to have someday. Until then, I will act as necessary to _ensure_ that what I love is protected. That includes both you and Talyn. _

_You can't _ensure _dren, Bialar. After everything we've both done for him, Talyn is degenerating. I can't even feel him through the link now. Perhaps your stubborn resistance to innovation is a luxury that needs to be put aside. _Her eyes shine with unshed tears.

"I'm probably just as glad I'm not on your friends and family plan," Crichton mutters.


	27. What Was Not Lost

"Talyn." An unfamiliar female voice tears through the warm envelope of Moya's consciousness. "I know you can hear me, because I've seen every reason-forsaken line of your source code, and I ran diagnostics on 355, so I know your ears are functional." Her words are like teeth, sinking into his mind and dragging his awareness back into the prison that is his bioloid body.

He opens his eyes to see a life-sized holographic woman perched on Pilot's console. She leans forward with her elbows on her knees and her small, pointed chin resting on her fists, her legs swinging in a show of impatience.

Pilot's claws move over the console in his normal routine, occasionally passing through the hologram, who seems not to notice. "Must you... manifest yourself here?" he demands, clicking one of his claws in irritation.

"No, I _choose_ to manifest myself here. And I'm not in your way." She sits back and lets her hands fall to her sides, clenching the fabric of her holographic skirt. "Talyn, please get up! They're not going to ask again. I know they've all been to see you, even the Hynerian! Bialar is insane with worry, and Gemmi is getting desperate."

_Not right to make your friends worry for you. _Moya's thought is a wave of sadness and rebuke.

_You're the only one who knows what I gave up when I starburst inside the command carrier. They can't know the difference between what I was and what I've become, but I thought you understood, that you knew what was lost. _He reaches out for her familiar data streams, the feel of sailing through the void, the kiss of solar winds on a biomechanoid hull.

_And I thought you understood what was _not _lost, my son. _She pulls her mind away from his, not breaking the link, but attenuating it until it feels less substantial than the woman on Pilot's console. _I cannot let you stay here with me like this. _

When Moya's mind has faded into the far background of Talyn's awareness, Bialar's consciousness once again becomes a dominant set of data streams. Bialar is with Gemmi; they've been arguing, and he seems to be trying to make amends with her the only way he knows how. She struggles with him at first, tries to say she doesn't want his touch, but she can't lie through the transponder. From what Talyn can perceive, she is clothed only in a flaring corona of infrared. The radiation pattern would be attractive if she didn't have to ruin it by wrapping those disgusting limbs around Bialar. Talyn wonders how Bialar can stand it but doesn't care enough to find out more; he removes his own transponder, slides it into a pocket, and shakes his head hard in an unsuccessful attempt to dislodge his most recent memory.

He rolls onto his back, groaning at the feel of cloth on skin, and then gestures to the hologram. "Pilot, what the frell is that?"

Pilot waves a claw through the hologram's torso. "It's some sort of parasitic program Gemmina allows to run loose through Moya's consoles. I have offered to remove it, but Moya believes it is harmless."

Talyn props himself up on one elbow and regards the hologram. "So, you're one of Gemmi's projects too?"

"Her magnum opus!" The woman takes a small, mocking bow. "Ceredin Mari Delonik, at your service. I'd offer to shake your hand, but there wouldn't really be much point." She flashes a smile, revealing slightly crooked front teeth.

Talyn blinks in surprise at the obvious flaw and notices she also has a small scar above one eye and a mole on her neck. Her yellow hair is held back with a clip, but several locks have come free, and she twirls one of them around her finger in what looks like a lifelong habit. The hem of her skirt is frayed where it brushes the tops of her scuffed leather boots, as if she- or the person she is meant to be- has worn this clothing often over many cycles.

"Were you ever something else?" he asks.

"You mean besides a pseudo-consciousness? Yes and no. My main function is purely Gemmi's program, but I incorporated some gestures along with this appearance." She runs her hands down her torso. "I'm very good at stealing subfunctions, Talyn. I can do it in my sleep, so to speak."

"That sounds like a threat."

"Good. It was meant to." She clutches the fabric of her skirt again, knuckles whitening. "They didn't send me. I came because I don't know what Gemmi will do to you if you don't start acting sane! She disabled my main function for two cycles, and I don't know why. I don't trust her. That's terrible, I know, she's my Programmer, but..." She shrugs.

"Bialar won't tell me why she had to use my backup. He can hide things from me, even with the link in place. I don't trust either of them. Sometimes I wonder how much she's already done to me, if I'm real or..."

"Or just the expression of Gemmi's farbot ideas? That would be terrible, wouldn't it?" Ceredin rolls here eyes. "None of your functions look like Gemmi's work to me; her code is more efficient, less... organic. And I know for a fact that parts of you are 'real'. Like your flight AI. Gemmi's going to ask me to copy it from you, incorporate it like I took my movements from subject 63's data."

"You can have it."

"Well, I don't want it!" She crosses her arms under her breasts and shakes her head. "I have a moral objection to taking bits and pieces of a living consciousness, and if you laugh at me for that, I'll reprogram your vocalizations so you sound like a whining drannit!"

Talyn does laugh, unable to help himself. "What about all... that?" He points to the hologram.

"I know-- it's an exercise in hypocrisy. I'm just too attached to it, I suppose. The part of myself that makes me look real to them is the part I've stolen, the part that doesn't belong. Even Gemmi treats me more like an equal when she can look me in the eye. And here you are, wanting to give all that up. It makes me sick. Don't bothering telling me that's impossible; it does. It makes me sick!"

"Being an equal-- that's all you want?" Talyn searches her face for any sign of dishonesty as he watches her nod in response. For a moment, he wishes he had Veena here, but then remembers her Scarran heat ray would be useless on a hologram.

"What's wrong with that?" She tilts her chin up defiantly.

"Doesn't seem like much, I guess."

"It's everything."

"If you say so." He stands, stumbling a bit as he regains his footing. He expects Ceredin to smirk at his awkward balance, but her expression is one of pity, which he finds more distasteful than schadenfreude.

"I'd help you if I could," she says.

"What, give me your stolen locomotion algorithms? I'd walk like a Sebaccean female. Bialar would spit pulse blasts." Talyn chuckles.

"No! I'd just reach out and help you." She extends a spectral hand, then lets it fall.

Talyn shakes his head in disgust. She's just like Jayza-- sympathetic, but entirely incapable of understanding that he doesn't want to fit in, doesn't care about being "one of them". Another examination of her face tells him she's probably more like Chiana, actually; her eyes have a slight predatory cast that indicates she'd have a virtually permanent infrared glow if she weren't a hologram.

"I like you better because you can't," he tells her.

He says his goodbyes to pilot and Moya through the link, his affection transcending words. As he exits Pilot's chamber, he fingers the transponder in his pocket. They might be done by now, but why risk being revolted? Besides, he needs to think about what he'll do next and whom he can trust, so he wants to be alone for the time being. He makes his way through the corridors, heading for the terrace where he can at least look at the stars.

A Kalish woman drops from the ceiling in front of him, landing lightly on her feet with a slight bend of her knees. "Hello, Talyn. I'm Sikozu, and we have much in common."


	28. A Foolish Kind of Promise

"Unless you happen to be former Leviathan hybrid resurrected as a bioloid by an insane Kalish technician, I somehow doubt that." Talyn chuckles bitterly.

"No," Sikozu admits. "I was never any other type of biomechanoid. But you could say I was resurrected, and I may have originally been Gemmina's and Jayza's work. I don't remember anything before my awakening. I'm a repro. Kalish resistance."

Talyn seizes her by the shoulders and spins her around around to face away from him. She struggles, but he has the element of surprise. Before she can free herself, he pinches the skin at the back of her neck in both hands and pulls it apart by brute force. Proving her claims, it parts more easily than living flesh should, revealing a socket that could connect her to another machine.

She darts up the wall, defying Moya's artificial gravity, and regards him from the ceiling, fingering the injured area and wincing. "Frell, that _hurt! _I knew you were an inferior model, but don't you have sensation?"

"You didn't honestly expect me to trust your word? It's a pretty wild claim. If you're resistance, why aren't you out killing Scarrans?"

"I have my own methods, and they're none of your business. As far as proving my identity, I would have done so had you _asked_ instead of attacking me like the monster they all say you are. I came to make an offer that might save you, both from being a prisoner of your own impulses and from what Gemmina and Bialar are considering."

Ceredin's words are still fresh in his mind. _"I came because I don't know what Gemmi will do to you if you don't start acting sane! She disabled my main function for two cycles, and I don't know why. I don't trust her." _He has no reason to trust Sikozu, but no reason to distrust her either. The same applies to Ceredin. Gemmi, in contrast, has already shown herself untrustworthy by placing the destructive fail safe's in Bialar's mind, even if she has removed them. And Bialar is entranced with her, as Talyn once was with Kateri, a Leviathan merchant ship. Kateri didn't have a single duplicitous capacitor in her circuitry, but if she had, he knows he wouldn't have seen it.

"Get down here, look me in the eyes, and give me one solid reason to trust you. Then I'll hear what you have to say," Talyn offers.

"Very well." Sikozu descends the wall and stands in front of him, her head tilted upward so her eyes meet his. "Your reason to trust me is simple-- you have nothing to lose and everything to gain. If you _don't _agree to my intervention, Gemmina will send her pseudo-conscious lackey to scrap your code for usable subfunctions. Part of you will end up on Aeryn's prowler, or my transport, or both. Some of you might be integrated into Moya's algorithms, it it's helpful to her.

"But make no mistake, Talyn. The part of you that is central, your main function, your _living consciousness_, will no longer exist. Unless you trust me."

Talyn shakes his head. "Ceredin won't do it. She's said as much, and I trust her more than I do you."

"And why is that?"

"Because she isn't trying to talk me into anything, other than being myself. Or being what I've become, anyway."

Sikozu sighs in irritation. "It will be harder for her without Ceredin's help, but Gemmina can do it herself. She put you together, she can take you apart. Let me help you."

"How?"

"The transponder, the one that links you to Bialar. Give it to me for a few arns and I can install a program that will correct your instability, give your conscious mind control over your impulses. More importantly, it will serve as a shield against all other tampering." She holds out an expectant hand.

Talyn reaches into his pocket and fingers the transponder. "One arn. Any longer than that, and they'll start to wonder why I don't have it in. Meet me in Gemmi's room."

"Excuse me?"

"It's sleep cycle. She won't be there. It's the one place that I know for a fact will be empty." He holds the transponder above her hand but doesn't release it until she nods her reluctant assent.

Sikozu closes her hand around the device and grins, then dashes away.

Talyn wanders until he reaches Gemmi's quarters, getting lost several times along the way. Once inside her room, he switches on the console and heaves a sigh of relief when it doesn't seem to be locked to her retinal patterns or fingerprints. It does request a password, but instead of guessing, he simply whispers, "Ceredin?"

As he expected, the pseudo-consciousness isn't bound by Gemmi's password protection. She appears standing on top of the console, a lock of hair twisted around her right index finger. "Yes, Talyn. What is it?"

"I need your help with something. Sikozu's got the transponder. She's going to install something on it to protect me from Gemmi, but I want you to see if it's safe. I don't trust anyone else. Can you scan it for me, make sure it's ok?"

"I can tell you without a scan, it isn't! That... _program _is the last thing on Moya you should trust, other than Scorpius, perhaps. He's a half-breed, you know."

"So am I." Talyn smirks. "Make that a third-breed."

"He's half _Scarran_. And he's half Peacekeeper. Oh, I know, I know, so are you, but that's not the good half. Third. Whatever. Just please stay away from them!" She reaches out a hand like she wants to take him by the shoulder and squeeze, or maybe shake him, but her spectral limb passes through him, unfelt.

"Can you scan the frelling transponder or not?"

"I can try. Put it over my hologram and I can run a surface spectral analysis. That _might _be enough to give me an idea what she's trying to do. Talyn... why are you even considering this?"

"Because I'm scared." It's the first time he's ever admitted that to anyone, if Ceredin even counts as "anyone," and it feels like unloading a cargo hold full of tungsten bricks. "I can't protect myself, not like I used to, and I hate not knowing what they'll do to me."

"Like make you disappear for two cycles?" A holographic tear traces it's way down Ceredin's cheek. "I'm scared too. And there's nothing I can do to protect myself."

"Then I'll protect us both." It's a foolish kind of promise, the kind Bialar always told him not to make, but he can't help it. He doesn't know where the impulse came from, just that he couldn't have fought it.

"Forgive me if that doesn't set my mind at ease," Ceredin mutters. "Oh, I hear someone coming!" She blinks out of existence, leaving Talyn alone with the sound of approaching footsteps.


	29. Adequate Compensation

Note on punctuation: I haven't been consistent on this convention so far, but in this chapter, note that I'm going with italics and quotation marks for lines spoken via the comms and unquoted italics for lines spoken via the transponder link. It became important to differentiate.

**Adequate Compensation **

"Gemmi! Bialar!" Ceredin shouts from the portable console.

This, Bialar reflects, is the reason programs do not need voices, or for that matter, free will. As a bioloid, he no longer suffers from grogginess, but he still resents being awakened. It's a matter of principle.

Gemmi pries herself loose from him and sits up, rubbing her eyes and yawning. "What is it, Cer?"

"It's Talyn." The hologram materializes at a tenth her normal scale, pacing the width of the console and clutching handfuls of her skirt. "He said Sikozu was modifying the transponder to install a program, and he asked me to scan it. I agreed, of course, but then Sikozu ambushed him from behind with the transponder. I never got a chance to see what was on it, but whatever it is, it's on him now."

"Why did you not make us aware of this sooner?" Bialar snaps as he steps into his pants.

"I only travel at forty percent the speed of light. I came as quickly as I could. Why the frell didn't you come find him when he removed the transponder?"

"I am not in the habit of discussing the reasons for _my _actions_._" He finishes buckling his boots. "I'm going to find Talyn, though if I see Sikozu first, I'll wring some answers from her."

Gemmi nods. "Bring him to me when you find him. I may be able to help undo the damage. Ceredin and I have been working on ways to override commands delivered via the transponder."

"In order to betray me?" He puts one hand on her shoulder and uses the other to twist her face up so that she is forced to meet his eyes or close hers.

She flinches and tries to turn away, the muscles in her neck tightening with an effort that yields no motion. "In order to reclaim my autonomy. I've had it taken from me too many times, more than once by you." 

"After all I have done for you, I expected at least respect, if not gratitude, Gemmi." He releases her chin and uses the hand on her shoulder to push her away.

"Just go find him. Talyn, I mean. Once he's safe, you can decide what you think of my efforts."

Bialar already knows what he thinks of her efforts to evade his control but doesn't bother to explain. His emotions are so raw he doubts he could hide them from her at the moment. She doesn't need words to tell her that she's pushed him when he already stood too close to the proverbial edge. Perhaps this predicament will show her the dangers of removing or tampering with the link, make her see the necessity of submitting to his guidance. After all, if Talyn had been unable to remove his transponder, he would not be in danger now.

After a tenth arn of striding randomly through the corridors, he mentally acknowledges the futility of such a search technique. He taps his comm. "Pilot, can you tell me where Talyn is?"

"_Moya says he mechanically removed the link because he found your... activities disturbing. She is unable to sense anything from him." _After a few microts, Pilot adds, "_He is not answering his comm."_

"What about Sikozu? Scorpius?"

After a long silence, Pilot replies, "_They are not responding either. I will have the DRD's on alert." _

"Thank you, Pilot."

"_Do you believe Talyn is in danger?" _

"Just help me find him. There is no need to worry Moya."

"_I am doing all I can. Shall I comm Captain D'Argo and the others and have them join the search?" _

"That would be helpful."

He ends the comm transmission and focuses his concentration on shutting out Gemmi's data streams. Ever since Ceredin awakened them, Gemmi's distress has been growing, and her emotions are clouding his mind. He briefly considers returning to her, accepting her defiance as a trifling assertion of individuality and not a true betrayal. No, he decides, he must maintain at least the illusion of productivity. However ineffectual his search may be, he needs to keep actively looking for Talyn. After erecting a mental barrier to keep his own mind separate from Gemmi's, he makes his way toward the docking bay. Hopefully, he can prevent anyone from leaving Moya.

When he finds Sikozu's transport gone, his resolve breaks, and Gemmi's awareness comes flooding back into his. She is both terrified and in physical distress, her body contorted into an awkward position that indicates she is bound. Forgetting the hurt her treachery caused him, he taps his comm and calls out to her.

"Gemmi? Where are you?"

"_Bialar!" _Her voice is tight with terror. "_355 commed me and said to meet him at the docking bay. He's not Talyn anymore. Scorpius found a way to carry out his idea without my help. I'm on the Kalish transport." _

With no other tactic presenting itself, Bialar tries reason. "Scorpius! I fail to see how this abduction aligns with your interests. You would have had assistance in obtaining a bioloid from the research station if that's what you wanted. Release Talyn and Gemmi now!"

"_Impossible. The fusion of my neural clone with Talyn's mind is irreversible." _The voice is that of bioloid 355, but the tone of bored amusement belongs to an old enemy. "_I can't release what no longer exists as a separate entity, and as for Gemmina, she still has a task to perform for me. Once she has finished that task, I'll be glad to return her. I have no need of any other assistance._

"_It truly is remarkable, the knowledge I have gained from this union. The flight AI, the reconnaissance __algorithms... the knowledge itself is not adequate compensation for what you have cost me, of course. But the retribution is." _He cuts the transmission. 

_Bialar? Can you hear me from this range? _Gemmi's words come silently over the link.

_Yes. Do you have any idea what he's planning? _

_He's heading for the Scarran research station. He wants the command carrier data spools for himself, and I think he believes I can transfer a pure version of his consciousness to a second bioloid. Once he realizes I can't exactly do that... _Her mind freezes in terror.

_I will have caught up to him by then, _Bialar promises. _In the mean time, can you seek an opportunity to restore Talyn to 355? _

_I could if I had-- _Her thought cuts off abruptly, and he can only surmise that someone has removed the transponder. 


	30. What Matters is the Why

The first plan that crosses Bialar's mind involves using Aeryn's prowler to disable the Kalish transport before it reaches the research station, but he discards the idea almost immediately; the risk is unacceptable. Any damage dealt with the prowler's pulse cannon would be devastating to such a small vessel.

That means his earliest opportunity to confront 355 will occur at the research station, if he can evade the sensors well enough to avoid being shot down. He runs back to his room, snatches Gemmi's portable console, and switches it on. As he heads toward the prowler, Ceredin begins prattling about Gemmi's abduction, but he cuts her off.

"What would she need in order to undo the damage to Talyn's mind?" he demands.

"The datachip, which you have, since it's in the console, a cable to link the console with Talyn, and time. Or me. I can work faster than she can, but only if I can physically link to 355 somehow."

"But you know how to restore him, in spite of the usurper's assertion that separating him from Talyn's consciousness is impossible?"

He glances down at her hologram and sees her nod emphatically. "Talyn is _my _project. Oh, I know, yours, then Gemmi's, but most recently mine. So I know _why _I'm restoring him. What matters is the 'why'. I'll figure out the 'how' when I get there."

Disappointment stabs through him. Her conviction is based on emotional attachment and is therefore as insubstantial as her body. He snorts. "I had hoped for a more encouraging answer."

"Hm. Do you know how you'll get me to him?" She asks.

"Yes," he lies, tired of this conversation. They have reached the prowler. Once inside, he uses one of several cords dangling from the portable console to link it with the prowler's mainframe. "I assume you can invoke Talyn's flight AI from the datachip?"

"I already am. And I'm giving it the pattern for the sensor sweeps. We should get in undetected. And then..." She makes a rolling motion with one hand and raises an eyebrow.

"And then what?" He settles into the pilot's seat as Moya's docking bay door begins to open.

"And then how exactly will we save Talyn and Gemmi?" She sits cross-legged on the console with her elbows on her knees. Not content with fingering her hair, she chews on the end of it, resurrecting what was no doubt a bad childhood habit of subject 63's.

Programs, he decides, need neither voices, nor free will, nor holograms. As he takes the prowler out of the docking bay, he tells her, "That's a truly revolting neurosis, Ceredin."

"Really? Hm. I have a 'revolting neurosis'. Yet another step closer to being a frelling mess and therefore a bona fide 'living consciousness'. Gemmi will be disgustingly proud of herself.

"But stop being evasive. How are we going to get to them?"

"With extreme circumspection!" He snaps.

"Hm." She imbues the syllable with a melancholy amalgamation of disappointment and rebuke. "So you have no idea. That puts you a step behind me. I've decided what I'll do with Talyn once I can sink my subfunctions into his data streams. I can compare what's on 355 to what's on the datachip. Anything that doesn't match, I can disable and quarantine until Gemmi can get to it."

"A neat solution to the simplest aspect of the problem," he admits sourly.

"Oh, don't be that way. I didn't tell you that in order to flaunt my superiority. I told you so you'll know that if you _can _get me access to 355 I'm almost sure I can disable that terrible program." She twines the lock of hair around her finger, unwinds it, and sticks it in her mouth again.

Knowing Gemmi, she probably will be disgustingly proud of Ceredin's complete lack of aplomb under pressure. Regardless, it is a problem she will need to correct once the four of them, or rather the three of them and Ceredin, are safe. He stares at the instrument panel in order to avoid looking at the spectral girl.

"We can probably assume that the Scorpius clone is piloting the transport the same way you are flying the prowler; by engaging Talyn's flight AI via a direct physical link," he muses aloud.

"No other way," Ceredin agrees. "And so..."

He resists the temptation to make an angry reply to her prompt. "We can also assume he'll leave the same way, taking the command carrier data spools with him."

"Oh!" Ceredin drops her hair and claps her hands, eying him with an embarrassing amount of admiration. "You're frelling brilliant! Now I can finally understand what Gemmi sees in you."

"So you have a thorough command of the plan then?" he asks, hoping she'll fill him in on the details.

"Yes, of course! It's trivial, really, but then all brilliant ideas are. Once you mentioned that he'll link with the transport before he leaves, I felt like a stupid drannit for not having thought of it myself."

"Indulge me. Explain what you'll be doing."

She sighs. "Of course no one trusts the pseudo-consciousness. Alright-- I'll explain the plan so you know I understand: I'll be setting a trap. After you link the console with the transport, I'll install an instance of myself. When the Scorpius clone returns and tries to leave, I'll make my attack, so to speak. In the mean time, I assume you'll have procured a stun weapon to use on 355 in case I can't get past his defenses. Correct?"

"Very good." He nods, his mouth quirking into a half-smile.

"Mm-hmm," she agrees around a mouthful of hair. "But what if Gemmi's not in the transport?"

"Then I find a way to separate her from 355 and hope he will leave without her if he feels there is no other choice."

"Hm." She brings her fists together, rests her chin on them, and looks him directly in the eyes. "Did you ever make a backup of Gemmi? Like what Talyn did with Bialar Crais. Subject 354. You. Whatever. Did you?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know how Talyn was able to accomplish what he did."

She swallows. "Bad enough to have to use a backup-- that's a kind of death, in a way. But not to have one at all..." She shudders. "Promise me we'll bring her back in tact."

He decides there is no harm in repeating a promise he as already made to himself. "Of course. My word as.. Gemmi's project."

"That's a solemn oath." Ceredin flashes a misty-eyed smile. "Thank you."


	31. And I Am About to Squeeze

It isn't the first time someone has tried to control Talyn. He remembers the early days of his link with Bialar, when he would sometimes find his higher functions had been disabled for arns. Even knowing that it was done for his own protection, he had hated the feeling of having lost control. He studied Bialar, not only recording every detail of the man's consciousness, but dissecting every function, translating Bialar's entire mind into Leviathan patterns. That knowledge allowed him to defend his autonomy then, and it is keeping him aware now. He knows how to hover at the edge of another awareness, waiting for the appropriate time to strike and reestablish control. If that time ever comes.

Until it does, he is trapped in a nightmare. The links with Moya and Bialar have both been severed by whatever Sikozu and Scorpius did to the transponder, leaving him alone, trapped in a corner of his own mind. He would give anything to be able to control the limbs he hated learning to use, to turn his own head and see what he choses to see instead of what the Scorpius clone wants to look at.

He wants to see Gemmi, or more specifically, the damage that the Scorpius clone did to her.

"_Talyn!" _She greeted him by name, of course. With her, everyone deserved a name, even a fully disembodied AI, and especially a "living consciousness". _"Bialar's out looking for you, and Ceredin's burning up a processor trying to find a way to help you. Will you at least let me take a look at it? The transponder, I mean." _She held out her hand.

"_Gemmina." _Stupid of the clone to call her by her full name; Talyn never would, mostly because he didn't like her enough to call her anything other than what everyone else did. He could feel his lips curving into a smile, and that was stupid too. When had he ever greeted Gemmi with a smile? _"I require your expertise, and you will be joining me for an excursion." _Frell. He sounded like Bialar; he couldn't just say, "I need your help. You're coming with me."

Then the clone made the biggest mistake of all-- putting an arm around her shoulders to guide her out of the room. She must have _known _then, known for sure that thing controlling 355 wasn't her least favorite project anymore. She ducked and darted for the door, and Talyn felt his biomechanoid muscles tense.

The clone caught up with her in a few strides and seized her arm. She managed to pull away, but when she started to run, her feet tangled with his and she fell, her head hitting the floor with a reverberating "crack". Talyn wondered if the smile inflicted on his face looked as disturbing to her as it felt to him. The clone gathered her squirming body up in Talyn's arms and strode to the docking bay, ignoring the trickle of blood that soaked through his shirt and danced down his chest with a sickening intimacy.

Inside the transport, the clone dropped her at Sikozu's feet without bothering to examine her himself. Talyn knows she's alert, but only because she responded to Bialar's comm. He still wants to see her. He never forgave her for putting the fail safe's in Bialar's head, and he never wanted to smile at her or hug her. He didn't want to be linked with her, and especially not with her and Bialar at the same time. But he never wanted to hurt her either.

At the moment, his eyes are fixed on Gemmi's transponder, which he holds gently between his thumb and forefinger. Sikozu found it when she took Gemmi's comm, and of course she removed it. If Talyn could switch it out with his own, he'd be able to contact Bialar, but he can't make his own fingers so much as twitch. He remembers being very young and wanting to touch the shining stars. He argued with Moya when she told him they were metras and metras away. How could they be out of reach and look so close? This situation fills him with the same sense of unfairness, exacerbated by many orders of magnitude.

"I believe we have arrived undetected," Sikozu announces.

"Very good," Scorpius remarks, favoring the clone with a patronizing smile. "You _were _able to employ the flight AI."

The clone only nods acknowledgment before looking away. He detests the sight of the half-Scarran's face almost as much as he loathes the way Sikozu looks at it. Before the separation, he thought she would prefer the pure Sebaccean appearance of 355; he mentally prepared himself for the sight of her draping her beautiful form over the bioloid's synthetically perfect body. That image caused him to go through cooling rods at an alarming rate, but now it seems he will never have to see it. She clings to the familiar and vile rather than reveling in the newer and stronger version.

At least, the clone reflects bitterly, he has no need of cooling rods to counter the flames of envy. He would simply kill the original Scorpius, but of course he knew that before the separation, and hence he placed a few titanium-sheathed lines of code that render such a solution impossible.

Talyn would laugh at the clone's predicament if he could. If he weren't locked in a smaller cell of the same prison. Frell.

Sikozu stands in the doorway, wearing a set of utilitarian gray clothing that she stole from Gemmi's room. "I should be able to retrieve the data spools without being captured, since I'm neither a wanted fugitive nor a clearly identifiable alien."

Neither the clone nor it's template has a counter-argument. Scorpius stands and pulls her to him for a needlessly protracted kiss, and Talyn can feel his muscles tremble with the clone's forcibly restrained rage. Once Sikozu is gone, Scorpius torments the clone with a hideous grin and then exits as well.

From what Talyn can read of the clone's thoughts, Scorpius believes he can sabotage the research station power supply. This act will not only strike an economic and technological blow to the Scarran empire, but will kill any Kalish and Scarrans that aren't able to evacuate, including the children Talyn took lessons with, Jayza's husband, and Veena's family. Far from being horrified, the clone approves of the plan, which is not surprising since the idea was conceived before the separation.

Needing an outlet for the bizarre mixture of anticipation, envy, and frustration that fill him, the clone kneels beside Gemmi. She still wears the loose, sleeveless nightdress she had on when the clone came for her, though now the fabric is soaked with perspiration and clings, translucent, to her skin. Her hands are bound behind her back, and both her ankles and her knees are tied. The clone strokes her cheek with the back of Talyn's hand. "You belong to Bialar Crais."

She flinches from his touch, gasping when he probes the swollen, discolored lump above her eye. "Hardly!" she forces a high-pitched, unnatural laugh. "I'm a recreation partner at most."

"That was not a question, Gemmina." He wraps Talyn's fingers around her knees and pulls them apart.

She whimpers and bites her lower lip as the cords dig into her flesh.

The clone continues to pull until the bonds snap, then smirks in satisfaction, having accomplished the dual purpose of hurting his enemy's mate and illustrating his impressive physical strength. "Only Talyn's main function is disabled. I have all his memories in tact, including those obtained via this device." He moves the transponder in front of her face and then uses it to trace the line of her jaw. "One could say I now possess Crais's entire domain, such as it is."

Talyn rages against the clone. Bad enough that as a bioloid he could no longer defend himself with integrated pulse weapons. Now, his last weapon, his own body, has been taken from him. He can feel his own hand on Gemmi's inner thigh, caressing her in a way that elicits tears of humiliation. His other hand presses the transponder into place.

"Go ahead, Gemmina. Tell him where you are and how closely you are bonding with what's left of Talyn. Give him a message for me. Tell him, 'I am standing in your heart, and I am about to squeeze.'"

Talyn wishes his main function truly were disabled.


	32. So Many Objectives

"We're close now," Ceredin informs Bialar. "I'm taking us past the sensors. Do you want to land the prowler or shall I?"

The research station sprawls in front of them, filling more of the view screen each microt. Attempting to dock in a Peacekeeper vessel would be impractical. He scans the surface for a logical landing site but sees only a monotonous landscape of towers, antenni, and domes repeating over each face of the central rectangular prism. No particular spot appeals.

"Just land us close to an accessible airlock, preferably one near a docking bay so I can begin searching for the transport."

The hologram bends at the waist in a brief, facetious bow. "As you command, so shall it be!"

_I am standing in your heart, and I am about to squeeze._

Like a shout in a silent room, Gemmi's awareness bursts through the transponder with a vehemence that is physically painful. The mocking words cut into him through her ears. His fists clench with a rage whose target he can only see through her eyes.

"Docking. Bay. Four." He repeats the words as he hears them through the transponder, stunned that she can manage a coherent thought while under such an attack. Her extreme emotional state has sharpened the link. Every sensation she experiences screams through his mind.

"Gemmi! I am here with Ceredin and the datachip. The monster in 355 will be destroyed, I swear it!" His words seem as futile as a prayer whispered into the barrel of a pulse canon, but she grabs onto them, and he can feel her distress subside.

_I know. Be careful. Scorpius is here too. _

"I had guessed as much."

"You're talking to Gemmi?" Ceredin taps the back of her neck for emphasis. "Is she..."

"She will recover," he snaps. "This is primarily an attack on me."

Ceredin stands and stomps a foot in frustration, clenching handfuls of her skirt. "Please! I can only imagine what's being done to her to make you look like this. Just tell me what's going on. She's my Programmer. She's my _friend. _Please."

"You say using a backup is a kind of death." He looks toward her but sees only the terrible images in his mind's eye.

"Yes! It's a discontinuity. There's no such thing as a resurrection, only a re-creation. But you don't have Gemmi's data, so I'm not sure why you're asking."

"If 355 were damaged beyond repair, could you transfer Talyn's data and maintain the continuity of his awareness?" he asks.

"Possibly. Electrical damage would probably be permanent, but physical trauma might not. Data is mostly stored in a bioloid's brain, so as long as that's in tact... Oh, please tell me what's happening! He's not physically damaged too, is he?"

"Not as of this moment." He forces his eyes to focus on her face, shutting out the anguish that courses through the link. "Ceredin, I'm not going to narrate the situation for you. I... cannot. I don't expect a program to understand. Suffice to say Talyn is no longer in any control of 355, and the consciousness that is has much to answer for. He is on the transport, so you won't be able to set your trap."

"I see. Then tell me what I _can _do."

"Can you communicate directly with the research station computers?"

She nods. "Once we get close enough, I can use the prowler's comms."

"Then locate a Scarran girl named Veena and comm her. Explain that Talyn sent you and tell her we need several unactivated bioloids and as much of Jayza's equipment as possible brought to docking bay four."

"Several unactivated bioloids? Why?"

"One for Jayza, one for Talyn in order to replace 355, and as many backups as we can manage to procure in case something goes wrong during the transfer process," he explains.

"Anything else?"

"Yes. Locate Director Kidan and tell me where he is so I can kill him."

"Why?" When he opens his mouth for an angry reply, she hastily continues, "I'm sorry! It's a line of code I can't get rid of. When an instruction doesn't make sense, I ask 'why'. Gemmi put it there to avoid errors. And because I sometimes think of better ways to do things."

He snorts. "Pick your reason; because he's a tool of the Scarran empire who tortures his own people in order to further oppression or because he has made the mistake of hurting someone we both care about."

"I'll take that as an inclusive 'or'. And I'll try to kill him myself if I can do it without too much collateral damage." She twirls a lock of hair around her right index finger and gives it several sharp tugs. "I could... let's see.. disable the environmental controls in the room he's in. Or possibly start an electrical fire."

"That would be acceptable." Throttling the man with his bare hands would be preferable, but with so many objectives he cannot justify refusing to delegate.

The transponder falls silent. He wonders if the Scorpius clone realizes that severing the link is a greater cruelty than leaving it in tact. Gemmi's data streams tore into him more fiercely than the aurora chair, but at least the link provided reassurance that she is alive and allowed her to pass on information. Now his only comfort is the knowledge that Scorpius still needs something from her and therefore will be forced to keep her alive.

He searches the prowler for a weapon and finds a pulse pistol under the pilot's seat. As he tucks the pistol into the top of his pants, he mutters, "Thank you, Aeryn Sun."

The prowler shudders with the jolt of impact as they land. Bialar's hand is on the door within microts.

"Wait!" Ceredin calls to him. "Don't forget my data chip! I have business with 355 too. You do your part--" She gives the pulse pistol a meaningful glance. "-- and I'll do mine."

He shakes his head. "I gave you a different assignment."

"And I installed myself on the prowler in order to complete it. I'm looking for Veena now. I can be in more than one place at a time; it's the beauty of being a pseudo-consciousness."

He removes the chip from the console, pockets it, and then decides to take one of the console's cables as well. He doesn't know how much of Talyn's mind is truly left on 355. There won't be much of the bioloid left by the time Bialar finishes, but he can at least allow Ceredin to attempt a recovery.

He fingers the chip through the fabric of his shirt and glances at her hologram, still perched on top of the portable console. "If Scorpius included protective measures in the clone's structure this could be dangerous for you."

She shrugs. "You're holding one of three instances of me, and that's only counting the ones on this ship. I have backups."

"But using a backup is a loss of continuity. Talyn-- the instance of Talyn on 355-- is damaged. In all probability it is corrupted beyond repair."

"You're going to make me say it, aren't you? Talyn is a 'living consciousness'. I'm just a program. So I'm willing to take the risk." She crosses her arms over her chest and raises her chin. "Frell probability."


	33. Sterile Electrolytic Fluid

The clone toys with Gemmi's transponder, holding it by one end, releasing it, and letting it fall until he can pinch the opposite end between a thumb and finger. Talyn's other hand clutches a pulse pistol, and his eyes are fixed on the door of the transport. Crais's arrival is imminent, which means his death is as well.

"Talyn-- I don't believe you're gone," Gemmi calls from the floor of the transport, causing the clone to turn and look at her.

"Such sentimentality. You may be correct, Gemmina. Perhaps his consciousness is hovering in the shadows of mine, enjoying your predicament. He never forgave you for meddling in Crais's head, which means he will loathe me, as I am about to put a pulse blast through it."

"You won't let him do that, Talyn, any more than you let Bialar Crais die at the command carrier. I still don't know all of how you did it. I do know it's not what you were programmed for, but you _found a way. _Found something inside yourself, I mean. You understood his mind as well as you understood your own mechanisms, and you found a way_. _Do the same now. Look into your heart._" _

The clone laughs and shakes Talyn's head, dismissing Gemmi as a wide-eyed fool and her words as an emotional rant. Like Bialar, and probably all other Sebaccean minds, the clone only processes electromagnetic signals in the visible range, even though 355's sensors pick up the full spectrum.

Talyn never lost his ability to read infrared. Gemmi, and later Ceredin, transferred it perfectly. Not that Kalish have very interesting auras. At first, he had thought they had their own complex language, different than the one Leviathans use. It didn't take him long to realize that Kalish radiate unconsciously, not speaking so much as gesturing. Gemmi's electromagnetic vocabulary has about four words-- the one that warned him to remove the transponder, one that says she really _is _just being her sentimental, farbot self, one that says she's focused on solving a problem, and one he'd never seen before until a tenth arn ago. He hopes he never has to see that aura again, not on anyone.

Right now, she still has a harsh glow emitting from the places she's injured, but it's superimposed on her "focused" aura. She's not simply begging him to perform a miracle, she's trying to tell him something useful. And she doesn't want the clone to realize that.

"I was reluctant to kill him." The clone glances briefly at Gemmi and then continues staring at the door. "After all, he did die once in order to take the wormhole data from me. Nothing I could do to you would quite equal the vengeance obtained by letting him see what I accomplish with that data. Then I saw something in Talyn's memories that gave me hope; you have a backup of Crais. I can kill him now and still show him the ultimate outcome of his foolish attempt at martyrdom."

Talyn imagines watching worlds burn, unable even to turn away. He can stop it from happening, but only if he decodes Gemmi's cryptic message. "_Not what you were programmed for... something inside yourself". _Maybe he's reading her wrong and they are just empty words.

"You'd never be able to resurrect him," Gemmi argues. "Not without my help, and I won't be a part of any of your plans. If you want him alive, then it's up to you to keep him that way."

The clone cranes Talyn's neck for a brief, contemptuous glance at her. She's still radiating focus, though apparently she's lost hope for Talyn and is now trying to convince the clone not to kill Bialar.

It's not surprising that she gave up on him. She never did think much of Talyn-- always wanting to alter his algorithms and make him something better, never seeing anything but problems when she looked at him. Now she wants him to look inside himself and find a solution. Dren. He's a frelling bioloid. There's nothing inside him but wires and tubes full of sterile electrolytic fluid.

That has to be it though. "_You understood his mind as well as you understood your own mechanisms..." _His mechanisms are different now-- weak, inefficient, and grossly simplistic-- but he still understands them. The biomechanoid heart is a pump that forces the fluids through a membrane, creating solutions with different concentrations. The polymers that comprise his muscles expand or contract with exposure to those solutions, and a malfunction of the pump would paralyze him within microts.

Most importantly, like all Leviathans, he has complete control over his own autonomic functions. With the Scorpius clone in place, he can't so much as twitch a finger, but he can still stop his heart. If he could move his lips, he would smile.

It hurts at first. Every muscle seizes up as if he were lifting a heavy weight with each part of his body. After several microts, the clone is able to override the pain, but his mind races in frantic circles. He wills his hand to raise the pulse pistol, demands that his lungs inhale, but with no result. Talyn's lungs are his cooling system, and without being able to breath, he knows he will soon overheat and shut down. Overheating won't cause any lingering damage, but in his panic, the clone doesn't bother looking through Talyn's memories for that fact. He is in a state of mortal terror and can't even scream.

Even from his current vantage, Talyn finds the situation amusing.

He hears something flop on the floor, followed by heavy breathing from Gemmi. After a few more flops, she has managed to pull herself in front of the door, still bound at the wrists and ankles. She leans back against the door and studies his motionless face.

"Talyn?" she whispers.

He doesn't know why she's still bothering to talk to him. The fact that she was right, that he is still "here" and was able to do what she wanted, means he can't reply.

She's not radiating focus any longer, just exhaustion and a trace of her usual irritating sentimentality. Fresh tears are gushing down her face, but she laughs. "You did it! I don't know if you're still able to hear me or if you've already shut down. But, Talyn, I'm so proud of you..."

He wonders if she realizes how condescending that sounds.


	34. Yours If You Want It

In docking bay four, Bialar finds forty seven vehicles that appear identical to Sikozu's transport. He spends a maddening half arn rapping on each one before hearing any response. The words are too muffled to make out, but he wants to believe the voice is Gemmi's.

He places his hand on the touch pad and tries to mimick the motion Sikozu used, but to no effect. He puts his face close to the door and shouts, "How do you open this contraption?"

The reply is unintelligible, and he is ready to try shooting the touch pad with his pulse pistol when he hears footsteps behind him. He pivots to face the noise, weapon raised.

A Scarran stands in front of a hover cart piled with bodies and tools and cables. She raises a hand and the air between them begins to ripple, but he holds the pulse pistol steady. The heat that would have disabled his original body is no more than a slight discomfort to this one. Through the shimmering waves of air, he studies the Scarran's face. She has matured more than he expected in the past few monens, but there is no mistaking Talyn's friend.

"Veena!" He lowers the weapon with a smile.

"Bialar Crais?" She drops her hand, shaking her head in disbelief. "I didn't recognize you until I used my heat ray. You make an odd-looking Kalish."

"So I am told. Do you know how to open one of these vehicles?"

She nods and moves to place her hand on the touch pad.

He grabs her wrist. "Wait. Let me get into position, and be prepared to run. Someone very dangerous has taken possession of bioloid 355, and he is inside this transport."

"Then Talyn..." She frowns and bites her lower lip.

"Talyn will be restored. But first I must confront the creature inside 355. I suggest you stay out of the way."

"I'll do what I can to help." She lays her palm on the touch pad and the door retracts upward.

The tableau revealed consists of Gemmi, tied and lying in the doorway, and 355 sitting motionless in the seat nearest the door. The clone has turned the seat to face the door and has a smirk plastered across his face and a pulse pistol in his hand. Bialar fires first at the bioloid's wrist in order to disarm him, then lunges forward to collect the weapon.

Gemmi sits up and rams Bialar's legs with a shoulder, sending him toppling head first into 355's lap. "Don't damage him any more!" she shouts.

Bialar pulls himself to his feet and regards the statue-like form of 355. The bioloid isn't breathing, and even its eyes are still. Electrolytic fluid leaks unchecked from the damaged wrist and the other hand does nothing to staunch the flow. The static fingers clutch Gemmi's transponder, which Bialar gently dislodges and puts in his own pocket.

"Veena! Come here." He calls to the Scarran girl without taking his eyes off the bioloid. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her standing beside him, and he hands her the weapon he found in 355's hand. "In case you need to defend yourself. Can you use your heat ray on him?"

"I can try." She shrugs and raises her free hand. After a few microts, she shakes her head. "No living consciousness. Not even the baseline I'd get from an active bioloid. At least I still have Gemmi's datachip. I think we'll need it. There's nothing there."

"Watch him anyway," Bialar orders.

He kneels beside Gemmi and spends a frustrating macrot struggling with the knots of her bonds before he simply breaks the cords. Seeing the deep bruises left by the cords and the ugly wound on her head makes him want to tear apart the one who did this to her. When he starts to rise, she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to her knees and keeping him down on his.

She tucks her chin over his shoulder and moves her arms down his back. Her whole body trembles as if trying to shake itself apart. "Talyn's in there. Please, please don't damage 355 any more. I don't want to use the backup again. I want him to remember what he did."

He reels as if struck, takes her shoulders, and pushes her back. "That's cruel, Gemmi."

"No!" She shakes her head furiously. "No! Not what the Scorpius clone did. What _Talyn _did. He was able to shut down 355 because of his own unique coding. He's a Leviathan, so he has--"

"Control over his autonomic functions," Bialar finishes. "Then why didn't he shut himself down to prevent this situation entirely?"

"He didn't think of it. He was too frightened, I'm sure. We both were. But when he saw the gun in his own hand, knowing the clone intended to use it on you... He saved your life. I want him to remember that. He needs that."

He pulls her close, searching fruitlessly for adequate words. He wishes he had Leviathan-like control of his autonomic functions so he could raise his temperature enough to stop her violent shivering. At least he has something to offer her. Keeping one arm around her, he wedges the other hand between them and pulls the transponder from his shirt pocket.

He brings the device up to the back of her neck and whispers. "Yours if you want it for however long you like."

She tightens her grip on him. "I only wanted to _be able to_ take it out. I never actually wanted to do it. You're... more than my project. And I didn't think that was possible. Being even more to me than my project, I mean."

He slides the transponder into place and feels her tremors subside as her data streams merge with his.

"What about Talyn?" Veena demands, still diligently pointing the pulse pistol at 355.

"I have Ceredin's datachip." Bialar retrieves it from his pocket and hands it to Gemmi. "Can you install her on the transport's mainframe and link her with Talyn?"

"Of course." Gemmi flashes a smile, relieved at having a task to do. "Veena, you hook Talyn up to the transport's computer, and I'll wake up Ceredin."

The Scarran girl nods, and in less than a tenth arn, Ceredin's hologram appears, hovering near Talyn's paralyzed body.

"Gemmi!" Ceredin flashes a broad grin that fades as she takes in the cuts and bruises. "Oh, frell, Gemmi, what happened?"

"Focus on Talyn!" Bialar snaps.

"I am. What part of 'multiple instances' is difficult to comprehend? She's my Programmer. I don't expect a... Sebaccean to understand that. Gemmi--"

"I'll be fine, Cer. Can you bring Talyn online?"

Ceredin tugs on her hair and moves her head from side to side, equivocating. "Hm. I'm not going to try removing the clone. I'll leave that to you. I've quarantined its main function, I think, but I can't be sure."

"Bring him online," Bialar orders. "If the Scorpius clone is in control, I can stop 355's heart the easy way."

A part of him wants to have the satisfaction of physically destroying the clone. Knowing that Gemmi will pick apart its code provides only a weak sense of retribution. Even so, when the bioloid's eyes blink, Bialar automatically responds with a hopeful, "Talyn?"

"Yeah." Talyn locks eyes with Bialar and nods, favors Veena with a surprised grin, and then glances briefly at Gemmi before averting his eyes. After a few microts of grimacing at the floor, he looks up at Ceredin's hologram. His mouth twists into a smile that doesn't touch his eyes. "Ceredin. If you say 'I told you so,' I swear I'll reprogram your hologram so you _look _like a whining drannit."

"Well, I see you're functioning as well as you ever have," Ceredin replies.

"What's all this?"

Bialar turns to see Sikozu standing in the doorway of the transport, carrying a bulging bag over her shoulder and pointing a gun with the other.


	35. To Protect My Own Interests

"Drop it, Sputnik!"

Sikozu pivots to face the source of the unexpected words. "Crichton? I didn't think even you could be this stupid! You can't have gotten in here without being detected by the sensors. Unless you want to be turned over to the Scarrans for interrogation, I suggest you leave now."

"He said, 'Drop it.'" Aeryn steps into the doorway of the transport to stand beside Crichton. Both have pulse pistols raised and pointed at Sikozu.

Bialar lunges forward to grab Sikozu and cries out as a pulse blast sears through the flesh of his upper arm. He blinks in disbelief, wondering if perhaps he misjudged the human. Could Crichton be hoping to take the data spools for himself and not wanting to destroy them as he had claimed?

"No sudden moves. From anyone." Crichton glances from Bialar to Talyn to Sikozu before glaring briefly at Veena. "And don't even think about playing toaster oven."

"Are those the data spools?" Aeryn points at Sikozu's bag with the pulse pistol.

Without answering, Sikozu drops her pulse pistol and brings the bag in front of her chest, clutching it like a mother protecting a child.

D'Argo comes to stand between Aeryn and Crichton and then lashes out with his tongue, striking Sikozu in the forehead.

Instead of crumpling as the Luxan no doubt expected, Sikozu only shakes her head in frustration. "I don't know how you ever called yourself a scientist, Crichton! The secrets I am holding are what the best minds of all sentient species have been striving toward since--"

"Right. And you're going to be on the cover of Nature, Science, and Popular Mechanics! I'm not buying that, Sputnik." Crichton laughs bitterly.

"I would prefer not to shoot you," Aeryn says. "So put down the bag."

Bialar edges slowly away from the target of their weapons, pulling Talyn with him. From this angle, he cannot see the bag itself, but from the look of stunned fascination on Crichton's face he knows something is happening with it. The air around Sikozu begins to shimmer and within a few microts, she cries out, drops the singed bag on the ground, and takes a step back from it. The air continues to ripple and the bag erupts in flame. It's contents begin to warp and shrink, emitting a foul, eye-watering odor and producing a stream of black smoke.

"You!" Sikozu lunges toward Veena, but Bialar and Talyn each catch one of her arms.

"Thanks," Crichton mutters, looking from Veena to the smoldering remains of the data spools. He coughs as he inhales some of the smoke and wipes his newly red eyes on the back of his sleeve.

She shrugs as she lowers her hand, letting the heat waves dissipate. "I'm Scarran. I had the most to lose if that data fell into enemy hands."

"Beautiful!" Ceredin claps her hands in appreciation. "Now it's just a matter of getting out of here before the power source explodes and then destroying the backup."

"Backup?" Crichton repeats just as Bialar says, "Power source?" and Aeryn says, "Explodes?"

"She's right. Scorpius plans to sabotage the station power core and blow up the whole facility as a way to hide the theft. He's giving himself a half-arn to get away once the timer is set." Talyn taps his own head with his free hand, still holding a struggling Sikozu with the other. "Believe me, I know more than I want to about his plans."

"A power source explosion should obliterate the entire station, including any backup," Bialar argues. "Why do you say we have to destroy it?"

"Because the backup is hoping to walk out of here." Ceredin smiles sweetly as Sikozu. "A bioloid's storage capacity is more than ample for holding the contents of a few data spools, right Talyn?"

"Frell! I hadn't thought of that." Talyn clamps down harder on Sikozu's arm and seizes a handful of hair in his other hand.

Confirming Ceredin's accusation, Sikozu twists and kicks in a renewed attempt to free herself.

Aeryn and D'Argo both train their weapons on Sikozu, but Crichton shakes his head and raises a hand. "No. There's gotta be a better way. Can't we just remove the files? What do you say, Jeannie?" He glances at Ceredin.

"Jeannie?" She repeats, tilting her head and tugging on a lock of hair.

"You know, blond girl, lives in the bottle? We had this conversation when you were piloting Lola."

Ceredin shrugs. "That would have been a different instance."

Gemmi comes to stand between Talyn and Bialar and places a hand on the back of Sikozu's neck. "Cer, Talyn, and I can handle the bioloid's memory wipe. We might even be able to keep her living consciousness in tact."

Ceredin raises an eyebrow and smirks at Talyn, who responds with a grin and a shrug. "Might," they agree in unison.

Sikozu twists her head to shoot a pleading look at Bialar. Apparently not liking what she finds in his eyes, she turns back to Aeryn, Crichton, and D'Argo. "I was only attempting to ensure that the Scarran empire is unable to create wormhole weapons! You can't leave me here with this... mad scientist and her minions!"

Bialar chuckles and brings his face close to hers. "I was under the impression you valued the advancement of science."

"I'm no one's frelling minion," Talyn mutters. He disentagles his hand from Sikozu's hair and latches onto the arm Bialar is holding. "I can handle her myself. Go take care of Scorpius."

"Good idea." Aeryn half-turns and puts a hand on Crichton's arm.

Bialar shakes his head. "You find Scorpius. I'm going after Kidan."

_Bring him back here alive. I need him._ Gemmi's cold, flat tone is as surprising as the words themselves.

_I will attempt to do so, _Bialar promises. The only purpose he can imagine for her request is the need for retribution. He wonders whether committing acts of cruelty will heal her or only worsen the wounds of experience by infecting them with festering guilt. Even so, he cannot justify denying her a chance at revenge.

"I'll help," Veena offers. "I can jam the sensors and make sure you get away."

"No. We can't trust her!" D'Argo barks. "She'll alert station security."

"He's right." Aeryn meets Crichton's eyes and then glances at Bialar. "Can we even trust you? Instead of going in like we had planned, you took my prowler on your own! Why?"

He places one hand on Talyn's shoulder and one on Gemmi's. "The matter became urgent, and I had to leave quickly in order to protect my own interests."

"Makes sense to me!" Crichton glances from Veena to D'Argo. "Look, her intel got us in here, and she fried the data spools despite the fact that none of us here has a weapon that can really hurt her. I'd say we need all the help we get and we don't have time for a round of interviews."

D'Argo growls, but nods reluctant agreement and the three of them depart, Veena close behind.

"If I'm not back in a half arn, leave without me," Bialar instructs Ceredin.

She shakes her head. "You don't have that long. My instance on the station mainframe says Scorpius has already set the power core to explode."

"How long?" Bialar demands.

"Twenty macrots unless you can neutralize his device. And I have Kidan contained on level twelve, section four, room 322."

He nods his thanks to Ceredin and exits the transport. As the door closes behind him, he hears Sikozu's shouts of protest.


	36. The Goddess in the Machine

"_This way!_" Ceredin's familiar voice rings through the corridor over the public address speakers, preventing Bialar from making a wrong turn as he jogs toward the room where she has Kidan imprisoned.

"You're on the research station mainframe?" he wonders aloud.

Apparently, the station has some sort of speakers that registered his words, because Ceredin responds with a gleeful, "Yes! It's like being some sort of deity. I control the environmental systems, the doors, the lift you're about to take..."

"Any sign of Scorpius?" he asks as he steps onto the lift.

"_No. He's managed to cordon off the portion of the station containing the power core. I can't get in and I'm not getting any readings. When Crichton, Captain D'Argo, and Officer Sun entered that section of the station, they disappeared. If they don't find the explosive device..._"

"Then what?" He exits the lift and strides past a group of Kalish. One of the women raises an eyebrow and shakes her head, apparently puzzled by the fact he spoke to the air. Once the Kalish are out of earshot, he activates his comm and whispers into it, "Ceredin? Can we use my comm?"

"_Of course,_" her voice comes from the small device, sounding weak and tinny.

"What were you going to say? If they don't find the explosive device, then what?"

"_I was hoping you would finish that sentence for me. Gemmi trusts you, so I do too. What should I do? I could sound an alarm and trigger an evacuation, but it will have to be done in the next ten macrots to give everyone a fair chance to escape. If Crichton and the others aren't out by then, that would mean risking them getting captured. I'm not programmed for these kinds of decisions!_" Even through the comm's speaker, the panic in her voice is clear.

"For now, give Crichton his ten macrots," Bialar orders. He _is _programmed for such decisions, but has learned not to make them until and unless he is forced to do so.

"_Alright. Kidan's just past the intersection and through the door to your ri-- Hold onto something!_" Her warning reverberates through the corridor speakers and screams from his comm as well.

"Why?" he demands, even as he seeks a way to comply. The smooth corridor offers no purchase, so he opens a door and charges into what must be someone's private quarters. The lighting is at minimal intensity, and he can just make out the lumpy shape of an occupied bed.

"_Scarrans!"_ Ceredin cries, this time only using the comm. "_I've opened an airlock._"

Bialar hastily closes the door and leans against it. He whispers into the comm, "I've found a safe location. Inform me when you've cleared the corridor."

"I think I heard something!" A woman's frightened voice comes from the bed across the room.

Bialar grits his teeth in frustration and draws his pulse pistol, hoping he won't have to use it.

"You didn't hear anything," a man grumbles, yawning. "Lights!" The illumination system flashes on, and he yawns again, covering his eyes against the sudden brightness as he rises to a sitting position. "See? Happy now? No one here..." When his hand drops into his lap, his eyes go wide, taking in the sight of Bialar pointing the pulse pistol directly at him. "What the frell?"

"I'll be gone in a moment," Bialar informs him.

The woman raises a trembling arm and fires a stun weapon, striking Bialar squarely in the chest with a weak EMP. The blast disorients him like a shot of raslak, but he shakes it off, mentally cursing himself for his carelessness. He hadn't seen her reach for the weapon, and if it had been a lethal one, his mission would have ended.

"I suggest you put that away," he advises, smiling a bit at her wide-eyed confusion as she looks from him to the stun weapon and back.

Ignoring him, she fires three more blasts. "Get out! Get out of our room, now! Guards! Security breach! Room 316!"

His chest burns, and his head begins to spin. He considers firing a pulse blast into one of the cushions, as a warning, but he doesn't trust his aim.

"_Oh, the guards won't be coming, my dear._" Ceredin's voice flows from a speaker in the wall. "_The corridors in this sector are purged at the moment, and besides, I control the comms so no one hears you but me._"

The man, a young, overweight Kalish wearing nothing but a pair of socks, gets to his feet and steps in front of the woman, blocking Bialar's line of fire in a gesture that Gemmi would probably find touching enough to warrant tears. Bialar finds the man's bravado sufficiently funny to laugh, though his amusement may be influenced by the raslak-like effect of the stun weapon.

"Who said that?" the woman demands.

"_Think of me as the goddess in the machine,_" Ceredin intones. "_I am the light that illuminates._" The room is suddenly plunged into darkness as Ceredin continues, "_I am the heat that sustains._" A blast of hot air surges from one of the vents. "_And I am the very air you breathe. Speaking of which, Bialar, the environmentals are back on in the hallway._"

The lights snap back on to reveal the man and woman clutching each other fiercely.

Leaving the Kalish couple rocking and whimpering in fear, Bialar exits the room and continues down the corridor. "Was that honestly necessary?" he hisses into the comm.

"_Yes!_" Ceredin replies, sounding indignant. "_Right now I'm telling them to find a transport and get out of here with their son. They wouldn't listen if they weren't scared out of their minds._"

"Their son?"

"_He's sleeping in the adjacent room. He's five cycles old, Bialar._"

"I see." He squeezes his eyes closed for a moment, forcing out thoughts of Tauvo and of Talyn when he still had the appearance of a young boy. "Have you been warning all of the Kalish families as you did these people?"

"_No! Of course not! That would create a panic and alert the research station guards. I just... What I did wasn't very logical, was it?_"

"Not logical at all. You are, as Gemmi would say, 'a frelling mess,' Ceredin."

"_Bialar..._" She sighs, and he has no doubt that if she were manifesting her hologram, a single dramatic tear would march down her cheek in a lonely, wet procession. "_That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Wait!_" Her tone changes to one of amusement. "_You said, 'frelling'! You never say that. Ever._"

"I have just been shot four times with a weapon that would knock a Sebaccean unconscious for a half solar day. If the effect is limited to a degeneration of my vocabulary, I count myself fortunate." He stops in front of room 322. "Is he still inside?"

"_Yes, and still alive, although I can shut off the environmentals if you like._" Ceredin makes her offer to execute Kidan in the same tone she might use when offering to operate a lift.

He smiles, finding it strange and more than a little refreshing that the same pseudo-consciousness who took elaborate pains to save a five-cycle-old child a moment ago has no qualms about ending the life of Gemmi's torturer. Sentiment without weakness-- before knowing Ceredin, he would have said such a thing was impossible.

"Leave him be," he tells her, raising his pulse pistol in preparation to enter the room. "Gemmi needs him alive."

"_You shouldn't have much trouble._" Ceredin's eerie, disembodied giggle echoes through the corridor. "_I've been playing with the lights and environmentals for the past tenth arn. I have him repenting to the goddess in the machine._"

Bialar schools his features to neutrality, wanting to break into a grin but feeling loath to encourage her. "Just open the door, Ceredin."

The door opens to reveal Kidan on his knees, hands clasped in front of him in a pose of supplication. His clothing is drenched in sweat, but he shivers violently, and when he opens his mouth to speak, the air he expels forms a cloud. "You!" he gasps, pointing a finger. "354! This is your doing?"

Bialar shakes his head. "Thank Ceredin for the, ah, spiritual awakening, and thank Gemmi for the fact I haven't put a pulse blast through you."

"What is it you want?" Kidan raises his hands in surrender, glaring at the barrel of Bialar's pulse pistol and trying to sneer with his quivering lips.

"You walking quietly in front of me all the way to docking bay four, where you will enter the transport without question or complaint." He grabs one of Kidan's wrists and twists hard enough to elicit a yelp. "Do I make myself clear?"

Without waiting for an answer, he tugs Kidan into the hallway and begins marching him toward the nearest lift.

"Tell me what this is about! I may be able to help you! I have influence with the Scarrans, 354. I can negotiate for credits, your freedom, a pardon for Gemmina, her reinstatement as a senior technician..." Kidan's oily whining trails off when he feels the muzzle of the pulse pistol dig into his back.

"I can only guess why Gemmi wants you alive," Bialar tells him. "And I very much doubt that it is anything you will enjoy providing."


	37. Embracing Contradiction

When Bialar raps on the door of the transport, it opens to reveal Gemmi standing behind Sikozu's deactivated body, flanked on either side by Talyn and the holographic Ceredin. A cord runs from Sikozu's socket to Talyn's, and a second cable links Talyn to the transport's console.

Gemmi looks from Kidan to Bialar and back and breaks into a broad grin. _You've brought him! Thank you so much. _She has to use the link to be heard, because Talyn and Ceredin are having a heated debate.

"I don't see why you're objecting!" Ceredin raises her arms and then throws them down, shaking her head in obvious frustration. "After what she did to you..."

"All she did was take the transponder to Scorpius!" Talyn folds his arms across his chest and sighs. "She didn't know what he was planning, and she sure the frell didn't know what he'd do to Gemmi."

"She knew she was destroying a living consciousness!" Ceredin argues. "That's all that matters."

Talyn laughs, throws up his hands in a dramatic shrug and looks from Gemmi to Bialar and then back to Ceredin. "So you're trying to argue that I should let you do the same thing? No! I'd rather see you wipe her out and be done with it."

"Gemmi is my Programmer! I owe Sikozu for what was done to her. For that matter, you're my project, such as you are, and I owe her for you too!"

"No. No, you don't." Talyn shakes his head. "Look, I don't think her Scorpius would have done what the clone did. I think..." He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a moment, and then locks eyes with Ceredin's hologram. "I think it was a hybrid of Scorpius and the worst of me. So if you owe Sikozu, then you owe me too, Ceredin. You want to frell with my code?" He spreads his arms wide and takes a step toward her. "Go ahead. We're already linked."

"Talyn... I would never..." Ceredin reaches out a spectral hand in a futile attempt to take one of his, and the two fall silent, apparently continuing their discussion in the privacy of Talyn's head.

Bialar shoves Kidan into one of the seats and begins binding the man's hands with the cords that held Gemmi when he found her. As he works, he asks, "Care to explain what this is about?"

Gemmi leans back against the wall and slides down until she is sitting against it. "It started productively. Ceredin taught Talyn to read bioloid code, and he was able to find the wormhole data in Sikozu's brain. He's very gifted at reading memories."

Having finished immobilizing Kidan, Bialar steps around Talyn, passing through Ceredin's motionless hologram, and sits beside Gemmi. "Were you able to erase the data?"

Gemmi nods. "Yes. I also set some fail safes. When we activate and release her, she'll be unable to harm you, me, or our friends. Talyn wasn't thrilled with that, but he understood, I think."

"Very good!" Bialar takes one of her hands and gives it a grateful squeeze.

"Ah, yes, well, that's when Ceredin decided to get creative. She wants to program a random, uncontrollable, unignorable itch that will plague Sikozu ten macrots out of every arn. Talyn won't have it, and well, you see the result..." She waves a hand toward Talyn's frozen body and Ceredin's static avatar.

"She wants to exact divine retribution," Bialar mutters, seeing a disturbing pattern to Ceredin's actions. "And Crichton calls _me _your monster!"

Gemmi laughs and leans against his shoulder. "Oh, I know! Sometimes I think I should restructure her nodes. She's flawed, I know that. I just love her so much..."

"But you aren't like her." Bialar runs a hand through Gemmi's hair and watches Kidan wriggle in his bonds, kept silent by the threat of being left to Ceredin's devices. "She has a simplicity that allows her to act without regret. You do not."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning you should leave Kidan's disposal to me, Gemmi."

She sits up and leans back so she can look him the eyes. Blinking in surprise, she says, "You thought I wanted him alive for that? For revenge, I mean?"

Kidan's head swivels and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "So you are willing to negotiate--"

"Oh, be quiet!" Gemmi snaps, shooting him a brief, contemptuous glance. "This isn't about negotiation or revenge. Do I look like a Traskan or a Sebaccean? I have Kalish reasons for wanting him in tact. He's a test subject. One I won't mind risking."

"Test subject?" Kidan repeats, his voice a half-octave too high.

"Talyn can't articulate how he transferred your consciousness to his data spools," Gemmi explains, facing Bialar and ignoring Kidan. "I think we may be able to save Jayza, but only if the three of us-- Talyn, Ceredin, and I, I mean-- can reproduce what he did with you. We needed someone, preferably a Kalish, to test on." She tilts her head and eyes Kidan, biting her lip. "It may not be possible to transfer a living consciousness to a bioloid without destroying the original. Talyn isn't sure if you-- if Crais survived the process."

"And what will you do with the bioloid version of Kidan?" Bialar wonders aloud.

"Let Ceredin play with it. She can tweak functions, reset variables, observe the changes in behavior, and compile the results. It's the kind of grunt work I programmed her for, after all. There's only so much I can learn from you and Talyn. I'm too afraid of hurting you to do a lot of experiments." She says the last part with a note of genuine regret, as if being afraid to hurt him were an unfortunate inconvenience.

Bialar shudders slightly, finding Gemmi's unfeeling empiricism somehow more chilling than Talyn's impulsive violence or Scorpius's obsessive vendetta. "I thought destroying a living consciousness went against her principles."

"Ceredin is beginning to understand that embracing contradiction is part of becoming a living consciousness. I'm rather proud of her for that. For growing up, I mean. Well, not 'up', actually, but, ah--"

"I understand," he assures her. He kisses her briefly and wishes he had time to ask her to make a backup of him.

If he dies on this research station, it will be another version of him who kisses her, one who doesn't recall the foray into the wreckage of her memories, or the weekens without her on the prowler, or the horror of having her taken from him. That Crais will not have known the pain of seeing Talyn's lifeless form in Veena's arms, the joy of watching Gemmi reactivate him, or the frustration of seeing him sink into despair in Pilot's chamber. He will sputter in amazement at Ceredin's hologram without recognizing her as the self-proclaimed goddess in the machine or knowing the impressive and disturbing extent of her capabilities.

The version of him that now resides on the datachip will wake to find both Gemmi and Talyn safe and in tact, never having watched them suffer as he has. Yet, illogically, he doesn't envy that Crais. He pities him.

As he rises to his feet, Gemmi clings to his hand, frowning up at him. "Why are you thinking like this? I'm not going to lose you!"

He releases her hand and taps Talyn on the shoulder, waking him from whatever dream he and Ceredin have been sharing. "Talyn, take the transport back to Moya and monitor the research station from a safe distance. After the explosion, you may return to collect lifepods and survey the wreckage, but only if Moya and Pilot agree to take on the risk."

"Why? Where will you be?" Talyn demands.

"I will be returning on Lola with Crichton, Aeryn and D'Argo. I'm going after them now." He pivots and exits the transport, ignoring the inevitable protests from Talyn and Gemmi. Once he exits the docking bay, he taps his comm. "Ceredin?"

"_Yes?" _

"Sound the alarm for evacuation. Explain the power core failure to the head of security, and adjust the environmentals to encourage people to leave."

"_I've done it." _

A klaxon sounds, and the lights begin to dim and brighten in a rhythmic fashion. On the ceiling and floors, arrows light up, ready to point the panicked masses toward the exits. A frigid wind sweeps through the corridor, pushing in the same direction as the arrows point. Ignoring both, he makes his way toward the power core. 


	38. The Inner Core

"_They disappeared when they went through that door up ahead,_" Ceredin explains, using the comm.

"Ceredin... thank you for all of your assistance." Bialar briefly caresses the comm as he approaches the door to the power core. "If Scorpius attempts to leave, contain him."

"_Of course." _

As the door opens, he makes one final entreaty to the goddess in the machine. "Watch over Gemmi and Talyn."

Once through the door, he finds himself on a narrow, circular ledge overlooking a chamber at least twenty motras deep. In the center of the chamber, several glowing columns run from floor to ceiling, looking like scaled up versions of the cooling rods that Scorpius uses. He knows nothing of Scarran or Kalish generator technology, but he guesses that they are indeed used for heat dissipation. Like sentinels posted around a ruler, they guard the reactor that must be inside. The blue fluid inside them has turned red in the middle, and the violent color is roiling outward, sending purple tendrils into the blue.

Other than the glowing columns, the only illumination comes from strips of weak, orange emergency lights. Bialar adapts by overriding his Sebaccean limitations and allowing his biomechanoid eyes to dilate fully. Even with this adjustment, he sees nothing to indicate that he is not alone.

"Crichton! Aeryn! D'Argo!" He bellows the names, but receives only echoes in reply. "Scorpius? Scorpius!" He waits, hoping that the halfbreed will be unable to resist gloating.

After several microts, he gives up on the prospect of a reply and climbs onto a ladder that goes to the bottom of the chamber. Three quarters of the way down, he braces for a fall and releases his grip. The landing is painful, but the few microts saved may make the difference between success and failure.

The floor of the chamber vibrates violently, and he can hear machinery rattling from within the circle of the cooling rods. In between two of the rods, the door to the inner core stands open. He approaches with his pulse pistol raised, intending to fire a crippling shot if he sees Scorpius. Perhaps with a gun to his head, the halfbreed will explain how to reverse the sabotage.

"Crais!" Aeryn's voice rings out from behind him.

Bialar pivots to see Scorpius standing at the bottom of the ladder, holding Aeryn in front of him as a shield. Her arms are tied behind her back. Scorpius has one hand tangled in her hair, and the other is cupping her chin. The threat is clear; if Bialar does something the halfbreed finds inconvenient, Aeryn's neck will be snapped.

"Just frelling shoot him!" Aeryn screams.

Ignoring her, Scorpius says, "Drop the pulse pistol and kick it to me."

Bialar hesitates. As a Sebaccean, he could never have trusted his aim in such a situation. As a bioloid, he would be willing to gamble anything, even Aeryn's life, on his ability to make the shot, were it not for the worsening vibration in the floor.

Scorpius twists Aeryn's head hard enough to make her cry out and peers at Bialar through a veil of black wisps. "Crichton and D'Argo are locked in a cabinet in the inner core. Drop your weapon and go after them. Once we are all safely away from here, I will return Aeryn along with Gemmina."

Interesting, Bialar observes. So Scorpius believes he still has control of Gemmi. His mind races, trying to think of a way to use this information to his benefit. At the very least, it should catch the halfbreed off guard.

He smiles. "Are you still in contact with Sikozu?"

Scorpius nods. "My comm is shielded from the frequency scrambler."

"Try her," Bialar advises.

Scorpius brings his mouth to Aeryn's ear. "Tap my comm."

Glaring at Bialar, Aeryn does as instructed.

"_Yes?" _Talyn answers.

"Where is Sikozu?" Scorpius demands, no doubt believing that the clone is still in control of 355.

"_Oh, we're still deciding what to do with her. Rather we were deciding. I suppose you've made the decision for us now." _Ceredin sighs. _ "We have to use her as leverage, don't we, Talyn?"_

"_We have to try," _Talyn agrees. _"You go ahead, Cer. Your threats are probably more inventive than mine." _

"_Let me." _Gemmi's voice is as cold as void. _"My patience for negotiation is worn thin by the fact that you have attacked my former home and by the fumes from the burning data spools. The situation is as follows, Scorpius: I am standing in your heart with two angry children, one of whom has the impulse control of a rabid drannit. The other has advanced creativity algorithms and nothing resembling the compassion you might expect from a living consciousness. Reverse the sabotage now and I may decide to protect Sikozu from them." _

"_Allow her to speak!" _Scorpius growls. The hand that was on Aeryn's chin clenches into a fist.

Aeryn twists away from Scorpius, leaving him with a handful of hair. The halfbreed reaches for her, but Bialar fires, hitting him in the shoulder, then the hip. Before Bialar can stop her, Aeryn lands a solid kick to Scorpius's head, leaving him unconscious. She then kneels, retrieves his comm, and speaks into it.

"Gemmina, we can't reverse the sabotage. Can you bring the transport to the power core exit hatch?"

"_Not in time. We're headed back to Moya. You'll have to evacuate with the Kalish or find Lola or the prowler." _

"Frell. Thanks for the distraction, anyway." Aeryn tosses the comm to Bialar and runs through the door to the inner core. 

Bialar follows. Inside the reactor proper, the air shimmers with heat. A colorful nest of wires, some of which are still sparking, sits where the control panel probably used to be. The machinery itself is encased in a polymer cover, so he cannot see the grinding gears or smoking pumps, but he hears and smells the result of malfunctioning machinery. Metal screeches against metal, and the unmistakable scent of smoking vacuum oil taints the air.

"In here!" Aeryn points to a locked cabinet whose doors appear warped as if beaten with a blunt object. Muffled shouting comes from within the cabinet and Bialar allows himself a small, relieved grin.

"Back away," he warns, standing parallel to the cabinet and aiming his pulse pistol for the lock. He fires, the lock clatters to the floor, and the doors fall open under the weights of Crichton and D'Argo.

"I would have had it!" D'Argo barks, twisting his head in a futile attempt to look at Crichton. The two men are back to back, their elbows bound together with a section of electrical cord.

"No, you wouldn't!" Crichton counters. "The only way to bust the cabinet would have been to knock it over backwards, and you kept charging the front."

"Backwards? It was against the wall!" D'Argo shakes his head in frustration.

"Which is why we needed to walk it _forward, away _from the wall..."

"Shut up, both of you." Kneeling next to them, Aeryn finishes cutting through the cord and tucks her knife back in her pocket.

"Sorry," Crichton mutters. He rises to his feet, chaffing his wrists. "How's the leg, Big D?"

"Better than my hand." D'Argo raises the limp, swollen appendage for emphasis.

"Will you be able to walk?" Aeryn asks.

"I can carry him." Bialar bends over, reaches under the Luxan, and then heaves him over his shoulder as easily as he would hoist a bedroll.

"Not up the ladder." Crichton runs a hand through his hair and begins to pace. "We could rig up something to hoist him--"

D'Argo pounds on Bialar's arm with his good hand. "There's no frelling time! Just put me down and go."

"No!" Aeryn and Crichton shout in unison.

"I can try to repair the power core," D'Argo argues weakly.

"_Officer Sun?" _Gemmi's voice comes over the comm.

"What?" Aeryn shouts over the growing mechanical cacophony.

"_I commed the prowler and Lola. Both instances of Ceredin say they'll be waiting for you outside the exit hatch."_

"Not good enough, Frankie!" Crichton barks. "We don't have suits and we can't get to the exit."

"_Ah... alright then... Lola-Ceredin says, 'Hold on to something-- I can make you an exit'." _

"Understood!" Bialar drops the Luxan and shuts the door to the reactor core's interior. "Tell her to go ahead."

"_Bialar? You're alright?" _Gemmi's voice trembles with relief.

"That remains to be seen." A violent swooshing sound comes from the other side of the door. After a few microts, it dies down to a mere hiss. "Is Lola in position?"

"_Ceredin says, 'Yes.' She has Lola pressed up against the hole in the research station, so you should still have some atmosphere. Tell me when you've made it, please." _

Bialar shoulders D'Argo again. When he opens the door, it flies off its hinges and slams against the far wall, blown by wind of the pressure differential. Bialar and his burden are knocked down by the gust as well, but by the time he has gotten his footing back, the pressure has equalized and the wind is gone.

Aeryn and Crichton appear to be struggling in the thin atmosphere, stumbling like drunks. Bialar grabs Crichton by the arm, since he is the closer of the two, and shouts, "Hold on to Aeryn!"

The four of them make their way to the torn opening and onto Lola, where Aeryn and Crichton collapse, panting. As the airlock closes and the atmosphere begins to reestablish, Aeryn reaches into Bialar's pocket and grabs the comm.

"Gemmina?" she rasps.

"_Is Bialar--" _

"He's fine. We're all on Lola. Tell your program to get my prowler clear of the station _now." _

"_Ah, yes, well... she says since you're alright she's volunteering the prowler to transport some Kalish. You'll have to take it up with her. You should be able to comm her from Lola." _

"Never mind." Aeryn slumps against the wall.

Bialar helps D'Argo into the pilot's seat and then slides into the other seat in the cockpit.

"Time to watch the destruction!" With a grin, D'Argo punches a few buttons, bringing a rear view up on the main screen.

As the power core erupts, Ceredin's hologram appears atop Lola's control panel. "That was almost you, and you're enjoying watching it?"

"Yep," D'Argo agrees.

"Makes ya feel glad to be alive, Jeannie!" Crichton grins at Ceredin's hologram and drapes an arm around Aeryn.

"Don't look at me. I don't understand it either." Aeryn shakes her head and shrugs.

"We owe our thanks to the goddess in the machine," Bialar says, reaching out an instinctive hand toward Ceredin.

The hologram frowns and tilts her head in puzzlement. "Goddess in the machine?"

Bialar winces as the realization hits him, and he lets his hand fall into his lap. "Your instance on the station mainframe-- that's what she called herself. You don't think she could have survived..."

On the screen, chunks of the research station drift in all directions, propelled by the residual energy from the power core explosion.

Ceredin shakes her head. "I'm not getting any response. But it's fine, really. That's just one instance! It's the beauty of being a pseudo-consciousness. It's alright."

"No, it's not," Aeryn says softly. "It's never alright to lose someone."

"Hm. I didn't say she was lost, only that I'm not getting a response. Goddess in the machine, you say?" Ceredin raises an eyebrow in Bialar's direction. "I rather like that, though Lola says 'hazmot in the machine' is more like it."

"Lola says?" D'Argo repeats, chuckling.

"It's the name you gave her, isn't it?" Ceredin shrugs. "Surely you knew she's a pseudo-consciousness? You didn't think she was like, oh, I don't know, a food dispenser, or Aeryn's prowler?"

"Well..." D'Argo scratches at the back of his neck.

"What's wrong with my prowler?" Aeryn demands.

"She said you were her friend!" Ceredin crosses her arms over her chest and glares at D'Argo. "It was her idea to blow a hole in the research station for you! And-- Oh, frell! Now she's decided to protest."

On the view screen, the stars go still, but the wreckage still tumbles toward them.

"Machines don't protest!" D'Argo pounds his fist on the control console for emphasis. "I don't know how she can be upset when she's not even alive!"

"There are a lot of things you don't know," Ceredin mutters.

"Look," Crichton interrupts, "you tell Lola D'Argo loves her more than he ever loved a woman--"

Aeryn gives a surprised laugh. "I think Chiana might be a bit offended--"

"Well, Lola never slept with my son..." D'Argo muses, fingering his tankas.

"Fine!" Ceredin throws up her hands. "I'll talk to her!"

Bialar taps Scorpius's comm. "Gemmi?"

"_Yes?" _

"Send Moya our coordinates. I don't believe we're going anywhere for the time being."


	39. The Strangest Dream Yet

In the maintenance bay, Talyn finds Jayza's stasis pod on the floor and Kidan strapped to a narrow table, gagged and looking terrified. Ceredin's hologram watches with a smirk as Gemmi undoes a strap and then tries to force the man's head to the side. His neck muscles bulge, resisting her efforts.

Showing no visible sign of frustration, or any other emotion, for that matter, Gemmi glances at Bialar, who stands at Kidan's feet. "Would you?"

As Bialar twists Kidan's head into place, Gemmi greets Talyn with a smile and a glance at the device he carries in his hand. "You've done it then? Made the transponder for him, I mean?"

Talyn nods, fingering the small metal shaft and watching Kidan writhe. The man's wrists and ankles are bleeding from the friction and his lips work around the gag as if he desperately wants to speak.

"Doe he have to be conscious for this?" Talyn wonders aloud.

Gemmi raises both eyebrows in surprise, then nods. "Yes, he does."

Bialar actually laughs. "Not a sentiment I expected from you!"

"Oh, don't be shocked!" Ceredin rolls her eyes at Gemmi and Bialar. "Talyn's impulsive, not vindictive. It's a completely separate character flaw. When he's not provoked, he's, well, he's a Leviathan."

"Thanks, Cer. I think." Talyn meets Gemmi's eyes. "I just want to be better than him, that's all."

"Which means you already are." Gemmi beams and shares a disgusting glance with Bialar, her entire aura flashing warmth before returning to the cold monotone that says she's in scientist mode. "I want Jayza back. And to give her the best chance, we have to try to duplicate the conditions under which you transferred Bialar's consciousness to your data spools. If this doesn't work, we'll be shooting in the dark with Jazya."

"We will anyway. She's brain-damaged," Talyn argues.

"He has a point..." Gemmi begins.

Before she can finish her musing, Bialar calmly strikes Kidan on the side of the head, and the Kalish man stops struggling, though his chest continues to rise and fall.

Ceredin laughs and claps her hands. "Oh, very good! Now we can get on with it!"

Talyn hands Gemmi the transponder and turns away from the table, preferring to look at Ceredin rather than Kidan's soon-to-be-lifeless body. "You didn't even know Jayza," he snaps.

"Gemmi cared for her. So did you. That's enough," Ceredin replies. "Besides, I need her. Gemmi can't do anything with bioloid exteriors, and the best choice I have from the ones we took is 291." She wrinkles her nose and shudders dramatically.

"Best choice for what?" Talyn wonders.

"For me, of course! Not that I don't like haunting Moya's mainframe. We've become good friends, really, it's just that I want to be..."

"One of them," Talyn finishes, jerking his head toward Gemmi and Bialar. "An equal, like you said before. I still don't get why you need Jayza. All the bioloids are the same-- two legs, two arms, limited electromagnetic sensors, overactive tactile receptors. Frell, I'd trade you 355 for 291 if it matters that much to you."

"Bialar would blow a circuit! You as a hundred and fifty cycle old Sebaccean female..." Ceredin giggles. "But no, I don't want 355. And besides, it suits you."

"If you say so." Talyn shrugs. There was something interesting about the twist of her lips when she said that, but he can't place exactly what it is or why it forces him to return her smile. At least when she's a bioloid, he'll be able to read her aura.

"He's ready now." Gemmi taps Talyn on the shoulder and points to a console screen that displays the readout from Kidan's transponder. "Can you sense him?"

"Yeah..." If Gemmi offers any encouragement or has any questions, Talyn doesn't hear. His physical awareness dims as he plunges into Kidan's data streams. Whenever he finds a pattern, he creates a function. Arbitrary data he stores as-is, careful to keep it compartmentalized from his own memories. With Bialar, he hadn't cared, but then he hadn't been thinking at the time, only acting on an instinct that compelled him to make any attempt to save his pilot.

In a little over a tenth arn, the process is complete. Talyn blinks down at Kidan, not needing to ask whether he's alive. The heat signature shows simple exponential decay, and Bialar wears a satisfied smile.

"So we only get one chance with Jayza," Gemmi mutters as she snaps a cable into place at the back of Talyn's neck. "Ceredin, can you compile Kidan to bioloid code?"

"Compiling as we speak! Or would you prefer a graphical indicator?" A near-empty glass appears in Ceredin's hand. Upon closer inspection, the green liquid inside is creeping slowly up as if flowing from some unseen pipe.

Talyn stares at the glass in surprise. "You can do that?"

"What, compile Leviathan patterns into bioloid code? Of course I can. I have the subfunctions Gemmi used on the two of you." She points to Talyn, then Bialar. "I can even run diagnostics while I compile." A second glass appears in her other hand, the liquid level inside fluctuating while the other creeps steadily upward.

"Uh, I meant the thing with the glass..." He shrugs, feeling foolish. "I guess it's not that impressive. I just kind of forget you're a program sometimes."

"Pseudo-consciousness!" Ceredin corrects. "Call me a program again and I'll wait till you're asleep and transfer your data to a DRD. You can live out your days repairing Moya's ventilation system."

"You can't touch me!" Talyn laughs and waves a hand through her abdomen for emphasis.

"291 can." Ceredin smiles sweetly.

"Enough!" Bialar growls. "Let her work, Talyn. I'm going to dispose of Kidan's body. You can help Gemmi prepare Jayza." After removing the transponder from Kidan and handing it to Gemmi, he undoes the straps, slings the dead Kalish over his shoulder, and walks away.

Talyn kneels beside the stasis pod and lifts the lid. Within macrots, Jayza begins to radiate a muted aura, and he lifts her gently onto the table.

He bends close to her and says, "Jayza? Can you hear me?" The fluctuation in her heat signature is so small he may have imagined it, but he continues anyway. "If you're in there, you have to help me find you. Fight, scream, doesn't matter, just do something I can latch onto."

"Talyn?"

At the sound of his name, he turns to see Ceredin holding up two full glasses. "Kidan is compiled and validated," she informs him. The glasses disappear, and she twines a lock of hair around her finger. "I watched what you did with him. I think I can help with Jayza if you'll let me."

"We only get one chance." He glances from Jayza to Ceredin, deliberating. After a half macrot, he shrugs. "Like I said, we're shooting in the dark anyway. I'll take all the help I can get."

Ceredin works systematically, applying a set of rules that work most of the time, and when they don't, Talyn catches her mistakes and restructures the data. It's tedious, waiting for her to scan every sector of Jayza's brain, but it seems to be working. When they finish, the psuedo-consciousness holds up her two glasses with a big, holographic smile.

Gemmi covers Jayza's body with a sheet, her eyes streaming and her aura undulating with waves of grief and anxiety.

Talyn moves to stand behind Gemmi, takes her by the shoulders, and turns her gently toward Ceredin. "Just watch the glasses fill-- that's Jayza. We've got her, I promise."

Gemmi nods and keeps her face toward Ceredin while Talyn switches Jayza's body with the bioloid intended for her. As he removes the transponder from the corpse, blood oozes onto the table, and he hurriedly wipes it with the sheet before Gemmi notices. When she does glance away from Ceredin's progress indicators, he's managed to complete the switch, and what she sees is a round young Kalish woman with short-cropped hair and prominent scales.

"We won't have any clothes for her. Any that fit her, I mean." Gemmi laughs too hard at that observation, clearly needing some sort of reprieve from the tension.

Talyn shrugs. "Doesn't matter. Moya's environmentals are perfect. She'll be fine."

Gemmi opens her mouth, but Ceredin interrupts. "Oh, don't bother trying to explain to Talyn. He'll just say he could read her aura through her clothing anyway, so what's the point?"

"I suppose Noranti could make her something to wear," Gemmi mutters, looking from Talyn to Ceredin and shaking her head. "I don't expect either of you to understand."

"You see?" Talyn raises an eyebrow in Ceredin's direction, wanting to keep the conversation going until the glasses are full. "She says, 'either of you'. Even if you do install yourself on 291, you'll never quite be 'one of them,' Cer."

"I didn't mean it that way..." Gemmi begins, then throws her hands up. "Never mind! How close are we to getting Jayza online?"

"Hm. Give me three hundred fifty microts, plus or minus epsilon," Ceredin replies.

After the estimated amount of time, Ceredin shakes her head and nearly all the liquid disappears from the "validation" glass. "I'm sorry... it's more difficult than I had thought. I'm missing some autonomics. I can patch with Talyn's."

"Frell!" Gemmi scrubs at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Stand where she can see you," Talyn instructs, moving into what will be Jayza's line of sight. "She'll be confused as hezmana when she comes online."

Gemmi complies, and takes one of the bioloid's hands in hers for good measure. She tilts her head and frowns at Talyn. "You're not worried, are you?"

"Nope," he agrees. "You programmed Ceredin, so you might as well be you doing it. And you bring people back. Whether they want you to or not. You're good at what you do Gemmi; I never argued with that."

"Thanks. I think." She flashes a weak half smile and then goes back to staring at the holographic glasses.

When the liquid reaches the rim on the validation glass, Gemmi yelps in surprise as Jayza's hand squeezes down on hers.

"This is the strangest dream yet!" Jayza mutters, sitting halfway up and grimacing down at her new body.

"It's not a dream, Jayza!" Gemmi throws her arms around her friend's neck.

Jayza smiles at Talyn over Gemmi's shoulder and reaches out a hand, which he takes, ignoring the irritation that always comes with being touched.

"Hello, Jayza." Ceredin waves a hand, having dispensed with the glasses. "I hope you're as talented as they say. I have a project for you."

"Ceredin!" Gemmi snaps at the same time Talyn protests, "Give her some time!"

"It's ok. I need a project." Laughing, Jayza disentangles from Gemmi and nods to Ceredin. "I'll start as soon as I'm dressed."


	40. Far From Optimal

Talyn had expected to find Gemmi alone in the storage chamber that now serves as her laboratory aboard Moya, but when the door opens, the creature standing on the other side is a misshapen thing with transparent skin and dark, fist-sized eyes. Though it only stands as high as Talyn's hip, the creature's arms are as long as a Sebaccean's, and they drag on the floor as it lopes across the room to crouch at Gemmi's feet.

"What the frell?" Talyn mutters.

Gemmi finishes connecting a cable to a female Sebaccean bioloid and looks up at Talyn, then down at the creature. "Crichton nicknamed him 'Igor'. He opens the door, brings me meals when I'm too busy to go to the center chamber, that sort of thing."

"But what is he? I take it he's a bioloid, but what's he supposed to be?"

"Jayza says he's a Davorian, and a deformed one at that. The bulk of his mind is Kalish, though Ceredin's done so much to Kidan he's hardly even a living consciousness at this point. If he's in there, he's hating every macrot of it, but I can't tell." She shrugs. "At least he's useful."

"The things Ceredin does..." Talyn shakes his head, unable to pull his eyes away from the bioloid that used to be Kidan. "It's frightening what she thinks up."

"And she says you're frightening because you don't think," Gemmi replies without looking up from her console screen. She touches the keypad, and the bioloid on the table in front of her starts emitting a faint heat signature. As the bioloid's chest begins to rise and fall, Gemmi looks from the chart on her console screen to the bioloid and smiles. She waves a hand to indicate her latest project. "Isn't it amazing what Jayza's done with it? With 291, I mean?"

Talyn looks more closely at the bioloid, trying to key in on the subtleties that make one Sebacoid different from another. It looks young, but full grown, matching his own body in apparent age, and its limbs and torso have the same soft look as Gemmi's. Other than smoothing the skin and adding some padding, Jayza hasn't done much to the body, but the face has been restructured entirely and framed with a messy cloud of yellow hair. He glances up at Gemmi, then back at 291. Even taking into account the difference in coloring, they aren't identical, but the resemblance is obvious.

"I thought she'd want to duplicate her hologram." Talyn frowns at the lifeless features.

"I was surprised too," Gemmi admits. "I'm glad you came now, while I'm still working on the autonomics. I'll be bringing her online tomorrow. She'd be hurt if you looked at her this way, Talyn. I know its a reminder... If it bothers you too much, I can have Jayza alter it again, make it match the hologram."

"No. It doesn't matter to me. It's a yellow-haired Sebacean. When it starts insulting me, I'll know it's her." He looks at Gemmi with what he hopes is a convincing smile.

If she could read heat signatures, she would know he's lying, would see he's wondering what the frell Ceredin was thinking. For a moment, he debates whether Ceredin is even worth what he's about to do for her. _Gemmi is my Programmer. _When she said that, he could hear the capital. He decides she didn't choose this appearance out of cruelty, probably didn't even realize he might see it as a reminder of those horrible arns he spent trapped with the clone. She chose it out of devotion to Gemmi, and that kind of loyalty is exactly why she _is_ worth it.

"Why are you here, Talyn?" Gemmi asks softly. "Not that I mind you visiting me, of course. I am glad to see you..." Her heat signature says she doesn't know if she's lying or telling the truth.

He sits down on a chair and then scoots it so he doesn't face 291. "I want you to clean up the mess in my head, get the rest of the clone's data out of there. And I don't want Ceredin to help. Just you."

She puts her elbows on the table and rests her chin on her clasped hands. "I thought you two were getting along now."

"We are. It's just... You know how she gets about protecting me. And I want you to do more than remove the clone. I want you to fix me. Alter my algorithms. Do whatever it is you told Bialar you could do for me."

"No!" The word comes out harshly and she smiles to soften it. "No. Bialar's right. It's not my place to decide what needs to be fixed."

"Dren. I half-expected you to say that. Look, can you at least patch my sensory processing? The clone's algorithm is already there, all you'd have to do is fit it in."

"Ah, I don't feel right tampering with you behind Bialar's back--"

"Frell that!" Talyn barks the words loud enough to startle Igor and send him scuttling into a far corner. "It's my code, Gemmi. It's my living frelling consciousness, and it's my choice. I just want to be able to perceive sensations the way you do. I've tried to learn on my own, but the nodes aren't there. I can't adapt without your help. Please."

Her eyebrows rise, and she nods slowly. "Just sensory processing. I'm not going to try anything with the decision making and impulse control. You'll still be far from optimal." The tone of her voice makes the last sentence an observation rather than an insult, which means it hurts even worse.

Talyn laughs, but doesn't smile. "Who's optimal? Bialar? He uses the transponder like a leash on you. He'd do the same with me if he could. Ceredin? She's a twisted hypocrite! What she did to Kidan... even you don't like it. I can tell. You? You're so frelling Kalish you have to force yourself to think of me as a person and not a project."

She holds up a hand. "You've made your point, Talyn. And mine."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean all that, at least not the way it came out."

"I undestand-- suboptimal impulse control." She shrugs, disconnects the wire from 291, and leans across the table to put it in the back of Talyn's neck. "I'm going to take you offline now."

He nods assent, blinks, and opens his eyes to find her plugging the cord back into 291.

"I think it worked." He breaks into a smile as he realizes he's no longer consciously aware of his clothing or the slight breeze from the environmental system unless he thinks about those things. He touches one hand with the other and doesn't wince at the sensation any more than he objects to the soft sound of 291's breathing. Wanting to try a new texture, he feels the bioloid's hair and then the skin of its cheek. Both are pleasantly soft in different ways.

"That's disturbing. Stop it. I doubt Ceredin would appreciate you handling her, ah, property when she's not around." Gemmi tries to make her tone light and fails.

He jerks his hand back. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking about it that way... I just wasn't thinking. Guess I'm still good old Talyn-- you're least favorite project."

"What?" she tilts her head to one side, frowning at him. She opens her mouth, closes it again, and bites her lip. Shaking her head, she gets to her feet and steps around the table to stand in front of him. "Get up!"

He stands and then struggles to maintain his footing as she tackles him in a fierce hug. Too surprised to articulate a proper question, he stammers, "What? Why?"

She releases him and takes a step back. "Because I can, now that your sensory processing is fixed. You're wrong about me, Talyn. I don't have to force myself to look at you and see a person. It's never been hard to think of you as real, and more than that, as Bialar's son. It's still hard for me to see 355 and not think of the Scorpius clone. That's what you're reading through the link and in my aura. But it doesn't mean I love you any less.

"Ceredin is... a piece of my own consciousness. And Bialar is my mate. But besides them-- no, along with them!-- Talyn, you are my very favorite project."

He glances down at the floor, desperate for a reprieve from her intense, misty-eyed expression. "Frell... Sorry. I just don't know what to say."

When he looks up at her again, she's smiling. "It's alright."

"Will you comm me before you bring Cer online?"

Gemmi nods. "Of course."

"Thanks. For that, and for the sensory processing, and for everything else you've done for me." He bends down and gives her the kind of brief hug he used to force himself to give Jayza and Bialar even though it made him shudder. "It's far from optimal, but I guess it's not so bad."


	41. It Isn't Just Entropy

"Cer, are you sure you don't want sensory processing algorithms?" Talyn asks for what seems like the thousandth time. He glances from Ceredin's hologram to the still form of 291, which Gemmi has clothed in one of her own garments. The red fabric feels smooth and pleasantly cool when Talyn runs a hand over it, but he cringes in sympathy thinking how it will feel to Ceredin-- exactly as it would have felt to him two solar days ago, like millions of microscopic insects crawling over her skin.

"Ask me again and the first thing I'll do when I get my new body is rip an arm off yours. What part of 'I want to learn on my own' is so difficult to understand?" She turns her glare on Gemmi, folds her spectral arms across her chest, and tilts her chin up. "Don't you start on me again either."

"Oh, I'm done arguing! Go ahead when you're ready." Gemmi sighs and then connects a wire from the bioloid to the console. When she bends over, something falls out of the front of her blouse, and Talyn realizes she's wearing a datachip on a cord around her neck.

Ceredin nods and squeezes her holographic eyes shut as if bracing for a plunge into icy waters. A macrot later, the hologram disappears and Ceredin opens new biomechanoid eyes as blue as a water-rich planet and rimmed with thick black lashes.

"You were right." Ceredin tugs at the fabric of the dress, shuddering. "I hate this. I didn't think it would be this bad, but-- frell! So. Much. Data."

"I warned you." Talyn smirks, twirling the cord, which he has just unplugged from the console. He hands the cord to Gemmi, bends down, and takes one of Ceredin's small, smooth hands. He squeezes hard enough to hurt her, though not hard enough to do damage. "Just focus on this and try to make everything else fade into the background. I'm giving you a signal. Everything else is noise until you want it not to be. It's like the sound of the environmental system running."

"That helps. Some." Ceredin sits up, then stands.

He shrugs. "I thought it might. It's what Jayza did with me. Come on, I'll take you outside. You'll love it. It's ok if I take her, right?" He glances at Gemmi.

Gemmi bats at her face with the back of her hand, fighting a losing battle against the tears streaming down her cheeks. She nods vigorously, swallows, and whispers, "Yes."

"Wait." Ceredin yanks her hand free, throws her arms around Gemmi, and squeezes.

Gemmi yelps, and Talyn grabs both of Ceredin's upper arms, prying her loose. "Don't try that until you know your own strength."

"I'm sorry!" Ceredin raises one hand to touch Gemmi on the shoulder. "I just... I hate seeing you cry. I always wanted to be there for you. Every time. And I couldn't."

"It's alright. I'm alright, I mean. And you're learning." Gemmi takes a deep breath and rubs her ribs, forcing a smile. "Thanks, Talyn."

He nods, takes Ceredin's hand again, and pulls her into the corridor. After a tenth arn, he rubs the back of her hand with his thumb. "Are you doing any better?"

"I'm correcting now," Ceredin replies. "Both for the strength calibration and the sensory processing. It's not that hard."

"Yeah, well, you have an advantage I didn't."

"True," she agrees. "I am programmed to be a bioloid technician."

"I meant that you actually wanted to be in that body, so you're not fighting it." He glances back at her and sees her twirling a lock of hair in her free hand. She isn't looking where she's going, just following him like a trusting child and staring at the golden strands wrapped around her finger.

"Hm. You think you know me so well." She snorts.

They walk in silence for a few macrots. When they reach the access shaft to the airlock, he asks, "Think you can climb up and out on your own?"

"I'm fine now. I don't see how you're not adapted yet. Willful stupidity is the only explanation I can think of."

She starts up the ladder, and for a moment he stares, transfixed by the infrared glow above him. "Not willful stupidity-- lack of motivation."

He scrambles up to join her inside the small maintenance exit airlock and then closes the heavy portal door behind him. When they exit Moya, Ceredin's mouth hangs open in awe.

"No word in any language is adequate." She gestures to the panorama around her.

"I know." Standing behind her, he finds her left hand with his and laces his fingers through hers. "You can see the full spectrum now, can't you? IR?"

"Of course. Why?"

"You glow. Your hologram didn't, but I knew you would." He takes a half-step forward and leans toward her until no more than a finger's width separates them. "When we stand like this, I can feel it. There's no heat noise out here, so your aura is perfect and clear, just like it's supposed to be."

"You emit too, or _glow, _if you prefer. It's an energy byproduct of any mechanical or electrical process, a counterbalance for the universe when the entropy of the system decreases. Simple thermodynamics."

"Wrong. It isn't just entropy. It's a meta-language. There are subtleties of frequency and intensity... You just don't know how to listen to it because you're not--"

"Not a 'living consciousness'?" she snaps, jerking her hand away. She folds her arms across her chest and her entire aura dims.

"Not a _Leviathan." _

"Oh." She lets her arms fall to her sides again and twists her head back to glance at him. "Sorry."

"It's ok. I can teach you to read IR patterns, if you want to learn." He reaches into his pocket, pulls out his own version of the transponder, and presses it into her hand. "I had the DRD's make this for you."

She holds the device up in front of her face and then turns to face him. "Are you sure? With my capabilities, it would be like handing me the key to your soul."

"My soul?" he repeats, smirking. "That's melodramatic."

"So I hate the phrase 'living consciousness'. And 'main function' just sounds too... sterile. But don't evade the question. Are you sure?"

He shrugs. "You've been in my head before. If you frelled anything up, it's not something I miss."

"That's terrible! You're supposed to say you trust me, that you know I care too much for you to treat you like a program."

"I never said I was good with words. Frell, Cer, that's why I decided to have the link made! Because we argue all the time without one. It was while we were working on Jayza, right after you threatened to wait till I fall asleep and then transfer my consciousness to a DRD. That's when I got the idea."

She laughs. "You do realize I was joking, don't you? A DRD couldn't run your main function. It doesn't have the processor power."

"I know. But I wasn't sure you did." He takes the transponder from her and moves it into place at the back of her neck. Taking her lack of protest for assent, he holds the transponder still with one hand and raps sharply on the opposite end with the other.

She stiffens slightly and gasps as the tip pushes through her skin, and when the device is in place, Talyn is hit with a blast of simple, stark fear.

He lets his hand fall from her neck to the small of her back and uses his other hand to pull her head against his shoulder. "I don't understand. Look, I'll take it out if that's what you want--"

"No. It's hard to explain. I'll try. You know I'm always running multiple instances, and they don't always synch up. It's not a problem, because there's always a backup, but now _this _instance is special, because it's linked with you. So all of a sudden I'm scared-- what if something happens to 291?"

"I won't let it, Cer." He brushes his lips across the top of her head and marvels at how the softness of her hair feels almost as good as the radiant heat from her body.

"This fear is part of being one of them. One of you. It's a necessary condition of physical existence, isn't it?" She wraps her arms around his waist and squeezes.

"Yeah. Just like all the sensory signals, it's always there in the background. I can't offer you any algorithms for this though, because there aren't any. You just get used to it." He reaches under her chin and tilts her face up to kiss her, partly because it's what Bialar would do with Gemmi, and partly because he wonders if her lips will feel as nice as her hair does.

She breaks away from him and takes several steps back. "This isn't right. This isn't you. You hate being touched. You should be complaining about sensory overload."

"I adapted." He closes the distance between them in two long strides and takes her by the shoulders. "I thought you'd appreciate it."

Through the link, he senses her rifling through his memories. When she finds what she was looking for, her eyes go wide. "You took sensory processing algorithms from Scorpius! You wouldn't let Gemmi clean out every bit of his filthy mind. You _kept _some of it! I don't understand."

He pulls back from her, hurt. "What do you expect me to do? Where do I draw the line? You want me to reject any part of who I am that isn't 'supposed to' be there? Then I might as well jump in Moya's starburst chamber right now. Because my whole life is a series of mistakes and atrocities, starting with what Bialar did to Moya and ending with what Scorpius did to me. It all adds up to this-- what you're looking at. _Take it or leave it._" He spreads his arms wide and lets them fall. "For what it's worth, I only kept what I did from Scorpius because of you."

"I would _never_ have asked you to do that. No matter how much I wanted-- " She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter. It's too much to ask."

"I know. But I also know how much you want to be 'one of them.' You couldn't wait to get into that body. I knew before too long you'd want to be close with someone. And the more I thought about it, the more I didn't want it to be someone else."

Ceredin's chest shakes with silent laughter. "That's a terrible way to put it!"

"Again, words-- not my strength. Look, forget all of this. Forget I tried." He turns back toward the airlock.

_But you didn't let me answer. _

He pivots to face her. "Answer what?"

"You gave me a choice-- 'take it or leave it'. And I choose 'take it'. You. Mistakes. Atrocities. Stolen algorithms. I'll take the whole frelling mess. If I knew your language I'd scream it across the entire electromagnetic spectrum; I want you."

"Cer--" He lets his eyes go unfocused so that when he looks at her, he only sees her aura, not the details of her shape. When he was younger, he had wanted to touch the distant, blazing stars. Not knowing what they were, he had envisioned them to be some sort of preternatural beings. Now, he has one of those glowing creatures within his grasp, and when he reaches for her, she feels as good as those imagined stars.

For the first time, he begins to see his own existence as a gift and his second chance as a miracle. This-- it's beyond expectations, and not so very far from optimal. 


	42. Epilogue: An Entirely New Variable

Veena scrubs at her exhausted eyes with the back of one hand, tapping the claws of her other hand on the tabletop. Even after two solar days, the dreadnought's sensors are still finding lifepods in the wreckage of the research station. It's tedious, mostly thankless work, but she can't allow herself to leave her post, not when doing so might cause her to miss a survivor. Blinking away the grittiness of missed sleep, she forces herself to focus on the sensor screen. Her head swims, and the soothing bleeps from the console threaten to lull her into a dream.

"It's a liquid nitrogen gun." The words are accompanied by a sharp jab in her lower back. "Call attention to our conversation, and it will send a compressed cartridge into your internal organs. The cartridge will then open, freezing and shattering all tissue within a radius of approximately six denches."

Feeling suddenly alert, she twists her body until she can see the face of her attacker. "Sikozu. Kill me, and any Kalish survivors out there are dead too. I'm the only one who cares enough to look for them."

"I'm not here about Kalish survivors. Have you found Scorpius?"

"I assume he's dead, and if I find him, he will be for sure, once they finish interrogating him." Veena shrugs, her mind racing in pointless, terrified circles.

"You won't find him this way." Sikozu sighs in frustration as she reads the screen over Veena's head. "You're only looking for the lifepods that broadcast a Scarran distress signal. I need you to get in my transport with me and help me scan for life signs."

"No." Veena shakes her head and folds her arms across her chest.

"What? May I remind you--" Sikozu jabs her with the liquid nitrogen gun again.

"You'll kill me once you find him, anyway, so no. I won't help you! He's a Peacekeeper and a traitor, and helping him isn't going to be the last thing I do."

"I had heard you were intelligent, for a Scarran." Sikozu snorts. "Sadly, that was probably true. Let me make this clear enough for a Scarran to understand: Gemmina's pet program recorded the entire incident in my transport as it occurred. I have video of you burning the dataspools that would have given your race dominion over the galaxy. Harm me, and that video will automatically be broadcast on Scarran comm frequencies. Betray me after I release you, and the same will happen. I have sufficient leverage to allow you to live, if you cooperate."

"I understand." Veena swallows and closes her eyes for a few microts. "All you're asking me to do is find him?"

"For now." Sikozu tugs Veena to her feet, holstering the liquid nitrogen gun. As she drags Veena down the corridor, she continues, "Our interests may be more aligned than you believe, Veena. Like you, I don't believe that patriotism equates with xenophobia. The Scarran occupation of Kalish territory has had too many casualties on both sides, as I'm sure you'll agree."

"Patriotism?" Veena chuckles nervously as she follows Sikozu into the small vehicle. "Since when is there bioloid solidarity?"

"Get in the right seat!" Sikozu pushes her hard enough that she stumbles and falls. Once both of them have settled into their respective seats, her hands begin to move over the controls. "You aren't any better than I am for being the product of random genetic combination and the vagaries of time. I'm as Kalish as you are Scarran."

Veena stares at the sensor screen, concentrating hard on the signal chart in order to keep from smiling; she struck a nerve, or perhaps flipped a switch, with her last jab at Sikozu. "Probably true," she agrees. "Some of the Kalish say I'm not very Scarran."

"Just run the sensors. Quietly. I'll be taking us within denches of the wreckage."

After two and a half arns of silence, Veena sees a subtle shift in the sensor data. She nudges Sikozu and points to the screen. "Probably just an anomaly, but if you want to go out and look..."

"I want you to go out and look. There's a suit in the back." Sikozu jerks her head in the appropriate direction.

"Fine." Veena sighs, disappointed, but not really surprised that Sikozu wouldn't leave her alone with the transport.

After suiting up, she exits the transport and begins a careful survey of the mangled reactor core. Blackened bits of polymer float in between frozen crystals of coolant fluid. Sharp shrapnel hangs all around her, and she has to contort her body to avoid puncturing her suit as she propels herself through the wreckage. Wedged under a coolant rod, she finds the lifepod, its green light blinking, telling her that whoever is inside must still be alive, despite not having activated the Scarran distress signal.

She wraps an arm around the pod and uses the suit's propulsion to take her back to the transport, where she hovers, half expecting Sikozu to snatch the pod and leave her outside. Instead, the airlock opens and she wrestles the pod inside.

On the other side of the airlock, she finds Sikozu standing, ready to rip the door off the pod. When she does open the lifepod, Veena wrinkles her nose in disgust. The thing inside it is hideous by the standards of any race; it's skin is neither smooth nor scaled, but heavily lined, and looks grotesquely pale.

"Thank reason!" Sikozu says breathlessly, leaning forward and then kissing the creature on its disturbing face.

The thing that must be Scorpius pushes her aside, sits up, and stares at Veena. "Who is this?"

Sikozu smiles, her eyes lighting up in a way that makes her face as frightening as that of her partner. "Oh, she's a new recruit to the cause."

***

"This..." Bialar gestures with his hands, indicating the unborn Leviathan in its entirety. "This is what you've been hiding from me, Gemmi?"

"I see you followed me." She stands up from her seat at the rudimentary command console and whirls to face him.

"Of course I followed you! For weekens now you've been deliberately attenuating your transponder signal, locking your laboratory, disappearing for arns on end..." He trails off, his sense of betrayal giving way to feelings of curiosity and wonder.

"I'm sorry. It was Moya's idea. Keeping it a secret, I mean. She wanted to wait until the baby made it past the stage where most of the other hybrids failed. Can you blame her?"

He drinks in the site of the creature's interior, taking in every detail. Like Talyn, the developing ship is equipped with internal weaponry, but the visual resemblance ends there. No red-and-black insignia decorate its walls, floor, or ceiling, and the lights on its consoles glow in soft shades of orange and yellow.

"A hybrid? I am stunned that Moya allowed this!" Bialar runs a hand over the wall, noting the faint vibration and warmth that make it unmistakably alive.

"She didn't exactly allow it." Gemmi grimaces. "It was her idea. She wanted a child, but only if it would be capable of defending itself. She got it in her head-- ah, well, got the idea, anyway-- that I could help her. I didn't know what she was getting at, not at first. Pilot summoned me and kept asking me questions about how I would have prevented things that had gone wrong with Talyn's neural network. After hearing all my answers, he blurted out, 'Moya asks you to proceed'. I couldn't tell her, 'no'."

"But you wish you had?"

"No, I wouldn't say that..." Gemmi sighs. "It's just that she isn't, er _it _isn't developing like Moya's data banks say a Leviathan should. She, I mean, it seems to be so much like Talyn, even with all the changes I made from your work and Velorek's. I just worry all the time about her. It. The baby."

"Her," Bialar repeats. "A surprising choice. None of the female hybrids survived past birth."

"I know." Gemmi nods as she caresses the command console. "I've read everything Velorek left on Talyn's data spools. I know all the dangers. That's why I'm trying very hard not to get attached to it."

"And failing spectacularly. Does she have a name?"

Gemmi flashes a hint of a smile before shaking her head. "Moya and I agreed we wouldn't name her until after she was born, but Pilot wants to call her 'Mina'."

"Short for--"

"Yes." Gemmi flushes furiously. "Now you see why I have so much on my shoulders."

"Gemmina," he murmurs, addressing the ship. He feels a bit foolish when she gives no response.

"Oh, here!" Gemmi walks across the command chamber to stand in front of him, reaching behind her neck and removing the transponder as she does so. "It's what you're wanting, isn't it?" Without waiting for a reply, she removes his transponder and replaces it with hers.

He closes his eyes, focusing on the experience of being immersed in the fledgling consciousness. Unable to express herself in words, Mina feeds him impressions and sensations reminiscent of an infant's babble. "She is... curious. Not exactly friendly. And she misses you." He removes the transponder and trades it for his own.

"Is she like the other hybrids?" Gemmi asks.

Bialar shrugs. "I was never given sufficient time to study them at this stage, not that most of the females even made it this far. And the fact that you're already linked with her introduces an entirely new variable into the system. How much of her code is from Talyn?"

"Flight AI, tactical programming, weapons control, and reconnaissance. She won't have access to those until she grows into them, and she won't develop lethal capabilities in her first cycle."

"Talyn grew up too fast," Bialar agrees. "But if she's not based on Talyn's algorithms, what's the basis for her mind?"

"An awareness with the ability to learn. Talyn and Ceredin are both hybrids-- half coded functions, half neural net. Right now, Mina is different; she's a pure living consciousness. I haven't done anything to the growing parts of her mind."

"But you have." Bialar shakes his head. "You may not have programmed her outright, but you're providing a template by being linked with her. She'll mimic your patterns, use them alongside Moya's to shape her own. It's how Leviathans develop."

"I didn't think of that," Gemmi admits. "I can modify the transponder again, remove the link to Mina--"

He takes both of her arms and squeezes them, shaking his head. "No! I believe that would traumatize her. Besides, I cannot think of a better template. Simply keep working with her as you have." He releases her and turns toward the doorway.

"And where are you going?"

He glances back over his shoulder. "I'm going to survey her hull and make sure all development appears in order. If there are any problems, it should be early enough that we can correct them."

"Thank you." Gemmi tilts her head and regards him with a knowing smirk. "You're already attached to her, aren't you?"

"I am... concerned, as well as interested." He pauses in the doorway and flattens his hand against Mina's skin once more. "This could be the realization of all my intentions."


End file.
